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lee-laurent · 3 months ago

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Slim Pickins - Jack Hughes

Summary: Ana's got slim pickings

content: kissing, allusions to sex, fluff, minor angst, bittersweet ending

wc: 1.8k

inspired by sabrina carpenter's song slim pickins from her new album short n' sweet!

notes: i love sabrina carpenter!! and her new album EATS! i thought of writing a jack fic as soon as i heard the full song!! enjoy!!!

Guess I'll end this life alone I am not dramatic These are just the thoughts that pass right through me

Ana had given up on finding the "perfect guy." Every guy she dated just let her feelings unsatisfied and disappointed. Her friends were beyond excited to introduce her to Jack. They'd dragged her along to the bar, meeting their boyfriends there, and shoving her in the direction of Jack.

A smirk took up his face as soon as his eyes met hers. The blonde just narrowed her eyes, waiting for him to say something. Introduce himself and show her this "Hughes" charm she'd heard so much about from the girls.

"Hey, I'm Jack," he said, extending his hand with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

Ana took it, her grip firm, but she didn't bother with a smile. "Ana," she replied coolly, already bored.

Jack's smirk deepened, and she could see he was expecting her to be more impressed, maybe even flustered. But Ana was neither.

"Nice to meet you, Ana," he continued, leaning in slightly. "Your friends have been telling me a lot about you."

"Oh, I'm sure they have," Ana said, her tone flat. She glanced around, noticing how her friends were watching eagerly, clearly hoping for sparks. The only sparks Ana felt were the ones of irritation.

Jack raised an eyebrow at her lackluster response, clearly not used to being met with such indifference. "So... what do you do for fun?"

"Read," she replied simply, taking a sip of her drink. "I'm into fiction, but I like a good biography every now and then. You?"

"Uh, I play hockey. For the Devils."

"I know," she said, not bothering to add that she couldn't care less about hockey.

The conversation dragged on, Jack trying to charm her with his stories from the rink. Ana just nodded along, letting her mind wander. She had already resigned herself to the idea that the "perfect" guy didn't exist--not for her, anyway. And Jack, with his cocky grin and predictable lines, wasn't about to change that.

But as the night wore on and she saw the hopeful glances from her friends, Ana sighed inwardly. Maybe it was time to stop holding out for someone who ticked all her boxes. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to settle for someone who could at least hold a conversation--even if it wasn't what she wanted.

With that thought, she decided to give Jack a little more attention to see where things would go.

A boy who's jacked and kind Can't find his ass to save my life

Ana watched as Jack laughed at something one of the other girls' boyfriends had said, the sound rich and easy. He looked the part--tall, athletic, with that effortless charm that had most girls falling head over heels. Her friends had raved about how he was the total package: a boy who was both jacked and kind.

But as Ana sipped on her drink and observed him more closely, she noticed the flaws in her friends' description. Like the way his eyes glazed over whenever the conversation veered away from him and/or hockey, or how he seemed more interested in impressing his friends than actually getting to know her.

Sure, Jack was kind in a superficial way--polite enough, quick with a smile, and generous with compliments (when it benefitted him). It wasn't that she needed him to be perfect-- God knows she'd given up on that fantasy long ago--but she couldn't help the pang of disappointment that she felt. Jack was exactly what everyone had said: good-looking, successful, and charming. But beneath that, he didn't really have much that Ana looked for.

"So, do you follow much hockey?" Jack asked, walking back over from where he had been with his friends.

"Not really," she admitted, her tone more honest than before. "It's never really been my thing."

Jack nodded, looking a little thrown. "Oh. Well, what are you into then?"

Ana considered lying, giving him an answer she knew he'd like, but decided against it. "Honestly? I'm more into arts and stuff like that--books, museums, writing."

Jack's smile wavered, and Ana could tell he was struggling to find a way to connect with her. It wasn't really his fault, she knew she wasn't making it easy. But as she looked at him, trying so hard to find common ground, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her earlier thoughts.

It was time to lower her expectations.

As everyone was saying their goodbyes, Jack gave her a lingering look, clearly hoping for a sign that she was interested. Ana smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks for tonight, Jack. It was... nice."

"Yeah, maybe we could do this again sometime?"

"Maybe."

Oh, it's slim pickings If I can't have the one I love I guess it's you that I'll be kissin' Just to get my fixings Since the good ones are deceased or taken I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'

As the weeks went by, Ana found herself spending more time with Jack. Not because she was falling for him, but because it was easier than being alone. The more they hung out, the more she realized that Jack was exactly who she thought he was--nice, handsome, but not who she'd been hoping for her whole life.

One night, after a dinner with their mutual friends, they found themselves alone, walking through the streets of Newark. Jack reached for her hand, and Ana let him take it, though the warmth she'd hoped to feel never came. Instead, she felt a dull ache of acceptance. This wasn't what she wanted, but it was better than nothing, right?

Jack stopped walking, turning to face her. There was something in his eyes. "Ana," he began, his voice softer than usual, "I really like you. I want this to work."

He was trying--really trying--and it wasn't fair to him that she couldn't muster the same enthusiasm. But life had a way of wearing down those high hopes she once held onto.

She forced a smile, leaning to press a quick kiss to his lips. "I like you too, Jack," she said, though the words felt hollow.

The continued walking, hand in hand, and Ana thought about what her perfect guy looked like. Maybe George Harrison or a young Bob Dylan. A guy with soul, who wrote her songs and poems. Wasn't afraid to talk about feelings, but was still just as attractive as Jack. But Jack was here, and he was nice, but he wasn't a young Jimmy Page.

That night, as she lay in bed next to Jack, who had fallen asleep almost immediately, Ana stared at the ceiling, her thoughts swirling. She knew she should be grateful--Jack was sweet, he cared about her--but the spark wasn't as strong as she dreamed.

Jesus, what's a girl to do? This boy doesn't even know The difference between "there," "their" and "they are"

Ana tried to focus on whatever her friends were yapping about, but Jack's text messages kept lighting up her phone. The boy didn't even know the difference between "there," "their," and "they are."

She reread his text over and over again. "I'll meet you over at they're place. Their should be plenty of parking outside if you don't wanna walk." Ana had almost chucked her phone across the room at the sight of it.

"You okay, Ana Banana?" one of the girls asked.

"Yeah, sorry, just thinking about shit."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Ana hesitated. What was she supposed to say? That she was annoyed because her boyfriend couldn't differentiate between basic homophones? That she was frustrated because she wanted more than he could offer? It wasn't fair--he wasn't really doing anything wrong.

"Nah, it's stupid. Just work stuff," she shrugged. "Continue your story."

Yet he's naked in my room Missin' all the things he's missin'

Jack sighed, pulling her body into his. She cringed at the feeling of his sweaty chest against her back. The room was quiet, just the sound of their breathing returning to normal. She turned to look at him, brushing some of the hair stuck to his forehead back. He looked at her with so much care in his eyes, massaging the skin of her thigh.

He was completely unaware of everything she thought was missing in him. So oblivious to the things that mattered to her. He didn't understand her passion for literature, her love for art, or the way she craved deep, meaningful conversations with her boyfriend.

But none of that mattered to Jack, he was just happy to have Ana by his side. And it made her feel so guilty. But if she didn't have Jack... what would she have? She'd be back to being lonely and bored with her life. At least Jack brought some excitement with him.

Since the good ones call their exes wasted And since the Lord forgot my gay awakenin' Then I'll just be here in the kitchen Servin' up some moanin' and bitchin'

The kitchen was dimly lit, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting shadows on the walls. Ana was putting away the last of the dishes from dinner, her mind preoccupied with everything she'd been thinking about over the entirety of their relationship. The rhythmic clicking of plates was a soothing backdrop to her contemplation.

Jack had been quieter than usual, his nerves evident as he fidgeted with his phone as she dried their wine glasses. Ana glanced over, noticing his unease but attributing it to work stress or something else she didn't understand.

After she finished cleaning, Jack took a deep breath and approached her, his face the most serious she'd ever seen. Ana's heart skipped a beat as she saw him pull out a small velvet box from his pocket.

"Ana," he began, "I know things haven't always been perfect, but I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Ana's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the ring. She had been contemplating the idea of settling for the last year, and now, faced with Jack's heartfelt proposal, she couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Since the good ones all call their exes wasted," she thought, reflecting on all her past disappointments and the unattainable ideal she once chased.

Then I'll be here in the kitchen, servin' up some moanin' and bitchin'. The idea echoed in her mind as she stood there, knowing that despite her doubts, Jack was offering her a commitment that she might not find elsewhere.

"Yes, Jack," Ana smiled. "I will marry you."

Jack's face lit up with joy as he slipped the ring onto her finger. Ana had come to terms with the idea that while Jack might not be the "perfect" partner she once dreamed of, he was a solid choice in a world of slim pickings. She had chosen to move forward with him, not because he was perfect, but because he was the best she could find.

Jack just might have to put up with some moanin' and bitchin'.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #jack hughes

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 18 days ago

Note

Hello!! Hola! I wanted to tell you that reading your stories is often the best part of my day, I don't know what cauldron of writing magic you fell into when you were a child, but honestly I'm glad you did 😄 I also wanted to request a Donna story: when Ethan goes to Donna's house, instead of k*lling her and Angie, he only stabs and hurts her really bad, because reader saves her from him. Reader wasn't in a relationship with Donna yet, but she was secretly already infatuated with Donna and would've done anything to save her life. Reader then helps Donna throughout her painful recovery, healing her multiple physical wounds and also the emotional ones. They end up getting together ❤️ Thank you so much!!!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for you compliments, and for your request, the cauldron part made me laugh hard xD! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

About to lose you

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, maid! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Donna being Donna, mentions of blood, I've literally stabbed the canon, but I don't care...

Word count: 7,696

Summary: You can't lose her, you just can't...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Oh, you're back,” you said with a kind smile, seeing that your lady had returned from the meeting.

Of course, you didn't know if there was a smile behind that black veil, or if the lady in black was looking at you or listening, but you didn't care. You were already used to sensing her expressions, even trying to guess them.

“Mm,” she murmured, turning her head and nodding slightly as she passed by you.

The always enigmatic attitude of Lady Beneviento had been stirring your feelings for longer than you would like to admit, but, like everything, you also got used to those nerves, to that slight blush on your cheeks. You hoped she wouldn't notice how obvious your behavior was.

You had been working in the mansion as a maid for several months now, but for you it had been just a sigh.

You were an ordinary girl in a not-so-ordinary village. Maid, wife or hermit, you didn't have many more options either. Escaping from that place, from the control of Mother Miranda, the Lords, and the Black Gods was something completely impossible and you knew it. Maybe a few years ago you considered taking a risk and trying to escape from that constant darkness, but it was only a fleeting thought.

You only had one life, you only had one chance to breathe, to live the best way you could, it would be absurd to end it all, run away and die, or worse, end up turned into one of the creatures that protect the place.

Completely convinced that you wouldn’t give your life to a loveless marriage, and without enough strength or skill to grow food or care for animals, being a maid was your best option for survival.

The question was: Maid for whom?

Everyone in the village knew that in the castle there was always room for girls like you, always. That was a truth, a disturbing fact. Many of your friends never returned from that place, those who did, never recovered. Risking working in the castle would be like risking leaving the village.

You only had one option, something that no one had dared to do, approach through the forest to the mansion that seemed abandoned, test the rumors that said no one returned from that place, and offer yourself to be a maid for the lady in black, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

Lord, yes, adopted daughter of Mother Miranda, too, but a truly strange woman. Few people had been lucky, or unlucky enough to see that black shadow walking, perhaps at masses.

A woman covered by a black veil, always accompanied by a sinister living doll, a quiet, mysterious, dangerous woman... that was her.

No one knew many things about her, and the ones that were known weren’t exactly good. Daughter of a noble family, descendant of one of the founders of the village, Donna Beneviento was barely a shadow of what they once really were. Her family disappeared due to madness, she stayed.

The Black Gods saw something in her important enough to take pity on that young lady, and let her live forever, wrapped in the arms of the supreme priestess.

Her story was tragic, sad and unfair, but as you walked to the mansion, you tried to forget about it. You would work as a maid. It didn't matter too much for whom.

The lady was wary of you at first, or so her withdrawn attitude and the teasing of the Angie doll told you, but finally, she accepted.

You became the only maid who lived in that place, the silent companion of Lady Beneviento.

It was true that she was strange, that the madness that accompanied her family had also hurt her. She was a sick, disturbed woman, reluctant to contact, to words, and even to show her face.

You never saw what was behind that veil, not even as her maid. Over time, you began to wonder if that portrait on the stairs had anything to do with the dark lady. If so, well… she was the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.

Donna wasn’t abrupt, but she wasn’t kind either. She would pronounce a few words or simple orders for you to carry out and you always thought you would have to settle for that. Little by little, the lady left her shyness aside, forming complete sentences or even conversations.

The tranquility you lived by her side gave you the privilege of distracting yourself, of entertaining and enjoying your free time. It might seem like a good job, an enviable one, but, when there was no cleaning, laundry or cooking to do, your head began to wander aimlessly, forcing you to focus your thoughts on her, always on Donna.

Of course, you never gave importance to that perhaps exaggerated affection you were beginning to feel. If you did, you were sure it would stop being just affection.

Every day, every night, you asked yourself the same questions, more and more frequently: What does Donna think of me? Does she like me being her maid? Why do I like being her maid so much?

You had to stop thinking about such things, or you would go crazy.

The lady in black walked silently to her desk, dropping into the chair and leaving something on the table, something shiny. You approached with a gentle step, your gaze fixed on the floor. You knew she didn't like your eyes searching hers, trying to interpret them.

“Has everything gone well, Donna?” you asked quietly, briefly catching her attention.

You will always find that contradiction curious. Donna didn't seem to be entirely comfortable with your presence, but still, she hated when you didn't call her by her name. That woman was herself a contradiction. You had no reason to be surprised.

“Yes,” she whispered, looking at that mysterious jar.

You walked around the desk, your gaze fixed on that yellow glow, arching your eyebrows.

“What’s this?” you asked curiously, leaning over the desk. “Is it a…?”

“What’s this, what’s this?!” a shrill voice screamed almost in your ear, making you recoil with a knot in your chest.

“Ugh, Angie…” you sighed, breathing hard, enduring the puppet's mockery and laughter, which were always directed towards you. “Don't yell…”

“Don't tell me what to do, you silly maid,” the doll said, with a cocky pose, also climbing onto the desk.

“D-Donna, what is…?” you asked in a lower tone, standing behind the lady and looking over her shoulder.

“It's none of your business,” the woman in black whispered, looking at you briefly, making her veil dance for your pleasure, revealing part of her pale skin, her black hair that gave her away as the woman in the portrait.

“Oh, right, I'm sorry,” you said, regretful for your blatant curiosity, bowing politely.

“Don't be sorry. It's better that you don't know, (Y/N),” the lady said, subtly looking away.

“O-Okay, you're right,” you said in a low voice, looking at the shiny jar out of the corner of your eye. “How was the meeting?”

Donna simply shrugged, telling you that she didn't seem to feel like talking, to no one's surprise.

“It’s a very cold day,” you said shivering, walking to the fireplace that you lit previously, rubbing your hands.

“Mm,” she murmured, without taking her eyes off that shiny jar.

“Maybe you'd like something warm,” you suggested, approaching the desk again and, involuntarily, making a gesture you had become dangerously accustomed to: reaching out your hand towards hers. “Oh, Donna, your hands are freezing,” you said with a worried expression, warming one of her soft hands with yours.

She was never bothered by your slightly daring attitude, by you touching her from time to time in an almost maternal way. You were always that way, and besides, you had become a bit addicted to those soft hands...

The lady cleared her throat, maintaining contact for a few more seconds before shyly moving her hand away.

“Um, yes,” she murmured, somewhat nervous about your annoying proximity.

“Well, I have a remedy for that,” you said with a smile as bright as that jar. “How about I make you some tea?”

“Mm, yes, tea,” she said with a hoarse voice, with a whisper full of discomfort at your proximity.

“Perfect,” you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “The Duke brought a new batch of artisanal teas yesterday, I think they are the ones made by the Petrescu family,” you commented, absentmindedly placing some things on the shelves, making sure, as always, that everything was perfect for your lady.

“I don't care,” Donna whispered, with a tired sigh. “Bring me a tea, will you?”

“Right away, Donna,” you said with your usual cheerfulness, nodding elegantly. “With lemon and no sugar?”

“Yes, grazie, (Y/N),” she said, turning her gaze towards you. “Angie, go with her, I need a moment.”

“Me, with the maid?!” the doll protested.

“Yes, come on, go away, leave me alone,” the lady said, gesturing towards the puppet, who followed you muttering something, something that weren't exactly nice words.

Already in the kitchen, you prepared that hot drink under the intense gaze of the doll, who sat on the counter, but, miraculously, didn't bother you too much.

“Is Donna okay?” you asked casually, seeing something strange in the lady's behavior, seeing a certain… concern. “It's not normal for her to get rid of you.”

“I think she's a bit nervous,” Angie said, with a shrill but calm voice, watching how the hot water mixed with the infusion. “Maybe it's because you're unable to keep your mouth shut, silly.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes and leaning on the counter, thoughtful.

“If she didn’t like the way I am, I think I wouldn't be here anymore, would I?” you said amused, shaking your head.

“Don't have any doubts, maid,” Angie said, pointing at you with her wooden finger.

“Why is she nervous? Has something happened?” you asked curiously, frowning, remembering that mysterious jar.

“Well, actually... bah, you're not interested,” Angie said, looking away, with a gesture that told you it wouldn't be difficult to get information out of her. “You must take care of my Donna and she'll take care of her business, maid, don't overstep your duties.”

“Worrying about her is my duty,” you commented, arching your eyebrows. “If there's anything I can do to...”

“Yes, to shut up, you're a pain,” Angie cut you off, making you roll your eyes again.

“How curious, she's never asked me to shut up,” you joked, checking the water. “Oh, the tea is ready.”

“Because she doesn't dare to do it, that's what I'm here for,” the doll said, pointing at herself. “Donna is a coward.”

“Really?” you asked with a petulant tone and an intense look. “I find it hard to believe.”

“Believe me, I know her, she can't even tell you…” the puppet commented, catching your attention. “Bah, I don't know what I'm doing talking to you, maid.” she said hurriedly, lowering the counter and fleeing the kitchen, as if she had said something she shouldn't.

You laughed tenderly as you served the tea, walking slowly out of the kitchen, intrigued by Angie's words, but forgetting about them for a moment. You had all night to fantasize about the lady's feelings, now you were working.

“Here you go, Donna,” you said in a velvety voice, leaving the tea tray on the desk and taking the opportunity to glance at that shiny jar.

It looked like a simple jar, it could contain anything, but on the side, on a label, there was a slightly disturbing inscription.

Rose.W Legs

You blinked several times, trying to interpret its contents, hoping it wasn't literally what it said, shaking your head. Looking away from the jar, you moved your eyes to the lady in black, who was standing in front of the fireplace, warming her hands.

The villagers had always said terrible things about her, but you... you didn't think that way. Living with Lady Beneviento made you discover feelings, but also change your mind about truths that seemed immovable. That woman wasn’t a monster. She seemed human, very human.

“Are you okay?” you asked due the heavy silence, one that wasn’t usual in a situation like that.

“Mm? Oh, yes, of course,” Donna whispered distractedly, moving her head towards you and approaching the desk again. “The tea smells different…”

“Yes, my bad,” you said amused, moving away a cup that was for you. “I gave it a personal touch with raspberry aroma. I-I know… I know you like it,” you murmured, blowing on your cup.

“You are very thoughtful, (Y/N),” the lady commented, making the same gesture with her cup. “Come, sit with me.”

“S-Sure,” you said somewhat nervous at that strange proposal, accompanying your lady to a pair of armchairs near the fire.

In silence, without Angie interrupting that warm moment, you both drank the tea. Normally it would be a special situation for you, one you would think about before sleeping, imagining a thousand ways to approach Donna. At this point in your life, it was already absurd to deny that… well, that you felt something more than pure affection for her.

But that time there was a different feeling, a heavy tension that pressed your shoulders down, an unusual atmosphere of concern.

Donna sighed, leaving the now empty cup on a nearby table, staring at the fireplace, and then, briefly, at you.

“(Y/N), I have a question for you,” she said in a hoarse voice, with a thick accent that betrayed nervousness. “You don’t have to answer, but I would like you to.”

“A question?” you asked somewhat surprised, choking comically on your tea. “Of course, Donna.”

“Mm,” she murmured thoughtfully, with the flames of the fireplace reflecting on what you could see of her face, dancing on her skin in a sinister way. “Tell me, if you could get out of this place… would you do it?”

“What?” you asked confused, shaking your head, tea shaking in your hands. “Oh, well, I…”

“I'm not going to judge you,” she said, lowering her gaze and playing with her hands.

“Yes, well… Let's see… the truth is that a sinister, cold village is not the place a girl like me dreams about,” you said, unsure of being honest, nervous about that out of context question. “But I can't complain.”

“Explain yourself,” your lady demanded, looking at you again.

“Well, I've heard amazing things about the outside world, but… I just don't need the outside world. The Gods have been kind to me and besides… I have a comfortable job, one that I enjoy,” you said, with the blush on your cheeks appearing to give you away.

“Do you like working for me? Don't talk nonsense,” Donna said, with an accusatory tone.

“Actually, I do,” you said with a lower voice. “You're not like people say.”

“Mm,” she murmured, not wanting to say anything else, relaxing in the armchair, her gaze fixed on the fireplace. “(Y/N), if I gave you the chance to leave right now, to flee from this village... would you do it?”

“No,” you answered without giving it importance, letting your feelings speak for you. “I don't want to leave. I-I-I'm fine with you, Donna.”

“You're fine with me,” she said, shaking her head, with a shy laugh. “You're dumber than I thought.”

“If I'm dumb for wanting to stay with you, I guess you're right,” you said with a serious tone, finishing your tea with trembling hands. “Sorry, Donna, but... what are these questions about?”

The lady looked at you and sighed again, making a strange gesture.

“It's nothing,” she whispered with a tone that revealed a big lie. “You... Will you stay with me? No matter what?”

“No matter what? What do you mean?” you asked, somewhat worried.

Donna shook her head again, nervous, erratic.

“Forget it, (Y/N), I'd better work on my dolls,” Donna said with a tired murmur, getting up from the armchair.

“W-Wait, Donna,” you said, interrupting her steps, causing her black veil to dance again. “Yes, I would stay with you no matter what, I'm your maid.”

“Mm,” she murmured, nodding slightly. “I like you being my maid.”

That was the last conversation you had with her that night. The lady in black didn't have dinner, she simply disappeared, surely tired, or working tirelessly on her dolls. You knew something was up, something that wasn't good. Donna had never asked such strange questions, and the matter of that mysterious jar…

You couldn't sleep that night. There was something that worried you, something you couldn't guess and that made you nervous. A new day would put an end to it, or so you thought. If you thought carefully, you could see that it wasn't the first time Donna had behaved strangely, especially before a terrible crisis.

There was no screaming, crying or hitting, so that possibility was unfounded. No, it wasn't the lady's madness or the voices in her head, no, it was something else and you weren’t sure if you really wanted to know.

The next morning started off calm and routine. Making breakfast, cleaning the house a bit… These were chores that distracted you from your thoughts and worries. Donna didn't come up to breakfast, she didn't show up, not even Angie seemed to want to make fun of you and make your work harder.

Something strange was definitely going on.

The sound of heels on wood alerted you as you were cleaning a piece of furniture, making you frown.

“(Y/N)!” the veiled lady shrieked, desperately looking for you. “(Y/N)! Dove sei!?”

“Donna,” you said, coming out of the corner you were cleaning, seeing in front of you the woman in black, with that horrible jar in her hand. “I-I'm here, what's wrong?”

“Oh, meno male…” she said, walking hastily towards you and roughly grabbing your arm, digging her nails into your skin as she dragged you towards the hall.

“Donna, what's going on? Y-You're hurting me,” you said, hissing in pain from her grip, but letting yourself be dragged along. “Donna?”

“Listen to me, you have to listen to me,” she said nervously, letting you go and putting her hands on your shoulders. “Do you hear me? Tell me you're listening to me!”

“Yes,” you said nervously, somewhat scared by her shaky voice, by her abrupt and senseless attitude. “Yes…”

“Here,” Donna said, handing you that shiny jar quickly, almost making you drop it. “Listen carefully, (Y/N), I want you to take this and go up to the attic.”

“The attic? D-Donna, I don't understand anything,” you said, shaking your head, with your heart beating very fast.

“Do what I tell you!” she yelled furiously, trying to calm herself down. “Do it, per favore…”

“I-I… it’s, it’s okay,” you said nodding, holding the jar tightly in your arms.

“Go up to the attic and hide there, did you hear me? No matter what happens, no matter what you hear… Don’t come down! Don’t come out! Is that clear?” the lady asked hastily, shaking you. “Is that clear!?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, nodding nervously.

Donna sighed looking around, removing her hands from your shoulders. In one of them there was another smaller object, it looked like… a syringe.

“Don’t move,” she whispered, uncapping the needle and, without saying another word, sticking it into your neck, emptying the contents.

“Ouch!” you squealed due to the prick and the fear you were feeling. “What was that!? What's going on, Donna!?”

“Sì… tutto bene…” she whispered to herself, moving your eyelids with her fingers, as if she were searching for something in your eyes. “Now, (Y/N), go to the attic and stay there, stay there, do you hear me?”

You nodded, noticing how her hand went down your cheek, in something terribly similar to a caress, a caress that you joined your hand to, almost crying.

“(Y/N)… I would have liked… to tell you so many things…” she whispered in a calmer tone.

“Donna… what's going on?” you asked with a nervous sob, with your body shaking, but without noticing any strange effect due to that injection. “Donna… no…”

“Go,” Donna whispered. “Vai … Vai!” she shrieked when she saw you weren't moving, pointing at the stairs.

You, scared and confused, obeyed your mistress's order, running up the stairs with the jar in your hand and going up to the attic, observing the hall through one of the cracks in the old wooden floor.

The lady moved nervously from one side to the other, next to her doll. The silence was drowned out by the sound of her heels. You were scared, disoriented, your neck hurt and what was worse; you didn't know what was happening.

Donna suddenly ran until she disappeared from your sight.

“What...?” you murmured, staring at the crack. “What's going on?” you asked yourself, tightly gripping the jar with your hands.

Shortly after, the sound of the front door opening was heard, and someone appeared, slowly entering the mansion. It was a man you had never seen before, with blond hair and clothes that definitely had nothing to do with a villager. He was confused and walked slowly through the mansion… he even carried… something in his hand, it looked like a gun.

When he raised his head to look up, you intuitively stepped back, hugging the jar. That man was looking for something, it was clear… maybe for the jar?

“Mia?” he asked, loudly, echoing off the walls of the mansion. “Mia, are you there?”

“Gods…” you whispered, watching how, unfortunately, he also disappeared from your sight.

He was calling someone, but you had never heard that name before, you didn't know why he did it and then you realized.

You ran a hand over your sore neck, remembering the puncture. That man must have been hallucinating thanks to Donna's powers and the influence of the pollen of the yellow flowers. You had already become accustomed to them, and according to the lady in black, they were harmless if she didn’t exert a certain power over them.

As you could tell from those erratic movements, that man was indeed being caught up in Donna's hallucinations, but you mysteriously weren’t. You came to a hasty conclusion. Maybe the syringe the lady stuck in your neck contained some kind of antidote to make you immune to her influence.

It was quite likely, since everything around you seemed normal, you weren’t hallucinating.

Time went by terribly slowly. Every second seemed like an eternity, the sinister silence of the mansion didn’t help at all. Every now and then, you heard something like a distant scream, surely coming from the basement since you had heard the elevator going down.

Your heart was beating furiously, impatient to know what was happening, urging your mind and body to disobey Donna and get down from the attic. With your patience exhausted and fear covering every inch of your skin, you finally decided to do it.

Slowly, without making any noise, you descended the ladder of the trapdoor, always carrying the jar with you. There was no one in the hall, and you couldn't hear anything. With all the subtlety the wood allowed you, you went down the stairs one by one, walking towards the door that separated the room from the rest of the house.

Breathing with difficulty, trying to step on the carpets so as not to make noise, you approached the door, poking your head through the frame. In the living room, nervous but still, was Donna, playing with her hands, with the Angie doll at her feet, as if she were waiting for something.

You hid again, watching from time to time in case something changed. It didn't seem to. More seconds, minutes... The lady didn't move but her body trembled and you did the same, peeking discreetly.

The metallic sound of the elevator put you on alert again, making a lump form in your throat, watching the living room.

From the hallway came that blond man, disoriented, as if he had, or was living, the worst nightmare of his life. He froze when he saw Lady Beneviento, moving slowly, cautiously towards her.

“Don't leave, I can't let you,” Donna whispered, with a dark and terrifying voice, moving her hand to lift Angie into the air, who began to laugh sinisterly, as always.

“Oh, still alive, huh? You better find me…” the doll said, walking quickly towards the man, who fell to the floor, being attacked by something invisible. “Find me…” Angie hissed, moving away from him and running back to her owner, who picked her up in her arms, running past the intruder.

“Hey, wait!” he shrieked, moving his arms and getting up from the floor, running towards the lady.

“No, no…” you murmured, putting a hand over your mouth, seeing that this invader was carrying scissors in his hand while he searched for the lady around the room.

The man moved around, desperately searching for whatever he was looking at while Donna dodged him, seeming completely invisible to his eyes.

After a few tense moments, the man reached out his hand, managing to reach the black fabric of Donna's dress, pulling it.

“I got you!” he shouted victoriously, stabbing the scissors into the lady's stomach, making her scream in pain.

“Gods…” you said shocked by what you were seeing, completely paralyzed “No… no…”

With one hand on her wound, the doll maker managed to get away from the erratic attacks of the intruder, walking towards you.

You snuck away in fear, hiding in what served as a storage room and suppressing the desire to help Donna, an almost irresistible desire.

The lady slowly climbed the stairs, moaning in pain, leaving a bloody mark on the wall she was leaning against. It was a terrible sight, you couldn't even be completely sure you weren't hallucinating.

The man also climbed the stairs and you couldn't see what happened, but you heard another terrible cry of pain coming from your lady, who appeared even more injured, with a terrible wound on her chest.

Slowly, barely able to stand, she went down the stairs, stumbling and rolling down them until she fell to the floor. Her hands, Angie… Everything was red, covered in blood, her blood.

The man followed her, bewildered, as she crawled along the floor, leaving a red mark on the wood. You couldn't stay there, you had to do something, quickly.

Before you could get out of your hiding place, the man lunged at Donna raising the scissors, about to stab her head while she writhed under his body, moaning, crying in pain and despair.

You couldn't stay there.

“No!” you screamed, leaving the room and lunging at the man just before he dealt Donna the last stab, a fatal one, no doubt. “No, Donna!” you screamed again, knocking the intruder down with a hard blow, throwing him to the floor.

He struggled with you, but something in his gaze suddenly changed, getting up scared.

“W-What...?” he muttered, shaking his head, raising his bloody hands, unable to take his eyes off the lady lying on the floor. “God... what have I done?”

“Donna, Donna…” you said hurriedly, crouching down next to the lady and lifting her body, placing it on your lap.

“(Y/N)…” she whispered, looking at you through her dislodged veil, with an agonized moan.

“Shhh…” you whispered, keeping your hands on the wound on her chest, trying to stop it from bleeding. “Oh, Gods, Gods…”

“Hey!” the man shouted, grabbing your shoulder to turn you around. “What's going on here?”

“Let me go!” you yelled furiously, protecting Donna in your arms and looking at the jar you had dropped on the floor. “Is that what you want? Huh? Then take it and leave!” you screamed furiously.

The man put his hands on his head, nodding and dropping the scissors, lunging angrily towards the jar and running out the mansion.

“Donna… my Donna, please,” you said desperately at the moans of the lady, overwhelmed by her serious wounds, not being able to control them. “There is so much blood… Gods… Angie!”

The doll suddenly appeared with a clumsier than usual step, kneeling in front of her owner.

“(Y/N)…” Donna whispered, slowly raising her hand, a bloody hand. “(Y/N)…”

“Shhh, don't talk, don't talk,” you said desperately, taking off the handkerchief you always wore around your neck and putting it on her wounds. “I-It's nothing, you'll see… I… I'll save you…”

“Per favore…” she whispered, almost without voice. “Ascoltami, per favore…” she insisted, letting her hand fall due to lack of strength.

“Yes, I’m listening, Donna…” you said with tears in your eyes, with your handkerchief wet with blood, with the end that was approaching.

“H-Help me… to… to take this off…” she murmured with her voice broken by pain, weak, almost imperceptible, vaguely pointing to her veil, messy due the fight. “Per favore…”

“The veil?” you asked, pressing her wounds hard, desperate. She nodded slowly, coughing, with a thread of blood coming out of her visible lips.

“Per favore…” Donna insisted, grabbing your dress with a non-existent strength, with fury in her words, with impatience. “I want… I want you to see me… just as I am…”

“It's okay,” you said nervously, stopping pressing and moving the black fabric until it fell to the floor.

You wish it had been another time, you wish you had discovered that beautiful woman before, before losing her irremediably.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, bringing your stained hand to her untouched cheek, running your fingers over her skin, taking in every detail of her one eye, the scar that caused her to always wear that horrible veil. “Oh, Donna…”

“That's better…” the lady sighed, moving her hand up to yours, weakly running it over your cheek. “Y-You haven't had luck with me, have you?”

“Don't say that… N-Nothing's wrong… I'm here with you. I told you that no matter what happened, I'd be with you, Donna,” you said nervously, squeezing her shaking hand tightly. “Gods… we have to do something… stop the bleeding…”

“No,” she said, relaxing her body. “You can't… you can't do anything for me… just… just go, come on… leave me here and try to live a normal life, far away from here.”

“Shut up,” you said furiously, hitting the floor with your fists. “I don't want a normal life, I don't want a life… without, without you,” you said sobbing, giving soft slaps to her cheek because her eye was slowly closing. “No, Donna, don't fall asleep… look at me, please…”

The lady, who could no longer stay awake, smiled. It was a melancholic smile that pierced your heart.

“(Y/N)…” she hissed, giving in to that deep sleep. “Ho… ho freddo…”

“A-Are y-you cold?” you asked as her hand fell to the floor, moving away from your skin. “No, no… Angie, get something, anything!”

“Y-Y-Yes, r-ri-ght-aw-ay…” the doll tried to say. She couldn't speak clearly and suddenly fell to the floor as well. “I-I c-can't… mo-mo-mo-ve…”

“Angie? Angie!?” you yelled as you saw how the doll collapsed, motionless, losing consciousness. That was terrible, but even more terrible was its meaning: Donna was dying.

“No… No… No… No… No!” you screamed, seeing that the lady didn’t react to your touch anymore, she was inert. “No, Donna! Donna…” you whispered with tears traveling down your cheeks, bringing her motionless head closer to yours, caressing her forehead with yours. “No…”

The hand you were holding, that already dead hand, began to crack, making you panic, it seemed as if her body was beginning to disintegrate.

“No! No, please!” you cried desperately. “No! No…!” you stopped screaming when you felt a hand on your shoulder, a hand you didn't know was there.

You looked sideways, scared, seeing how, standing next to you, was the village priestess, the powerful and dangerous Mother Miranda.

Glancing at you briefly but expressionlessly, she crouched down beside you, placing a hand on the dead lady's chest, muttering something.

The cracked hand you were holding shifted, making those ugly cracks disappear under Miranda's focused gaze. That horrible look disappeared from Donna’s skin as you blinked in confusion.

The lady in black opened her eye for a moment, as if she had just revived. Her gaze went to you, but before you could rejoice, she lost consciousness again, but in a different way. Her chest rose and fell slowly, she was alive.

“Mm, I guess the worst is over,” Miranda murmured, not paying attention to you, checking the condition of the Lord. “Hey, you, you are her maid, right?”

“Yes,” you sighed, kneeling on the floor, smearing your face with her blood as you ran your hands through your hair. “I…”

“What are you waiting for?” the blonde asked, picking Donna up from the floor, carrying her in her arms. “Bandages, alcohol and wet towels, now.” she ordered coldly, carrying the unconscious lady to a sofa.

“Yes,” you said, nodding and obeying immediately, glancing sideways at Angie, who, fortunately, had also revived, although she seemed confused.

You quickly grabbed everything you needed. You were so nervous that you didn't have time to be scared or to fear Miranda's presence. After all, she had save Donna.

“Come,” the witch ordered, leaving Donna on a nearby couch, running a hand over her wounds. “Her dress, take it off, now.”

You nodded, bending down and slowly starting to undress your mistress, getting her blood all over you again, unable to think clearly. One by one you undid the buttons on her blouse, carefully removing the sleeves and leaving her wounded chest exposed. The doll maker looked just like one of her dolls, lifeless.

“That's it...” you murmured, leaving the lady lying down again, now without her blouse and her skirt.

The wounds were horrible, fatal if it wasn't who she was, or if Miranda hadn't arrived in time.

“Do you know how to sew, girl?” Miranda asked passing a towel over Donna’s wounds passively, as if her adopted daughter's life wasn't at stake.

“Yes, Mother Miranda,” you said nervously, while she cleaned the wounds.

With a sinister laugh, Miranda rummaged through a briefcase, taking out a surgical needle and thread.

“Then sew,” she said, handing you the objects in an unpleasant manner. “Think of it as it were a cloth.”

“What? N-No, I can't do this…” you said, shaking your head, overwhelmed by the situation.

“Mm, then don't do it and Donna will die…” the witch said, with a mocking tone. “I have a lot of work keeping her stable. I suppose you don't want to be ungrateful, do you?”

“No, Mother Miranda,” you said, shaking your head, looking away from the woman. “I will try…”

“You will,” she said, with a dark smile, while your trembling hands approached Donna.

Slowly, controlling your nerves, you managed to sew the two stab wounds clumsily, but effectively, or so the priestess's gestures told you.

“Mm, what a mess,” she commented, shaking her head while you cut the thread. “You are a pretty useless maid.”

“I have never done this,” you protested her words, while her golden claws ran over the seams, causing them to close on their own, at least a bit.

“That’s obvious,” Miranda murmured. “Mm, well, I suppose it will do. Bandage, maid, bandage her wounds.”

“Right away,” you said nervously, checking that Donna, your Donna, was still breathing.

After those tense and unpleasant moments, the priestess took Donna to her bed, leaving her there in an unpleasant manner. You, seeing those somewhat rough manners, hurried to move her body and put it under the sheets, covering her lovingly, caressing her hair.

“Everything is going to be okay, Donna…” you whispered in her ear, sitting on the mattress and grabbing her limp hand, squeezing it tightly in yours. “I'm here with you…”

“How sweet, Donna never told me she had a girlfriend,” Miranda commented, letting herself fall into a nearby chair with a mocking gesture.

You couldn't help but smile, shaking your head.

“No, I… I'm just her maid,” you murmured, without stopping caressing the lady, faithfully accompanied by Angie, who, mysteriously, didn't say a single word, simply snuggled up to her owner.

“I see,” the priestess said, looking at her claws with disinterest.

“Mother Miranda,” you said in a low, cautious tone. “That man…”

“Ethan Winters,” she finished. “Don't worry about him. I've already made sure he doesn't bother us anymore.”

“Who was he?” you asked, looking at the lady, who moved unconsciously, probably due to the pain.

“Mm, no one that was you business, maid,” she said amused. “Ah... I guess Rose wasn't the right one, after all.”

“Rose?” you asked curiously.

“You ask a lot of questions, girl,” she said annoyed, to which you lowered your head. “Just take care of Donna, mm? I'm sure I can trust you, right?”

“Of course, Mother Miranda,” you said with a firm voice.

“I assumed so,” she sighed, getting up from the chair and checking the condition of the youngest Lord for the last time. “If she wakes up and gets nervous or has a crisis, inject her with this,” she told you, handing you a syringe. “Relax, it's just a sedative... surely you know that it's easy for Donna to lose her mind.”

“Okay,” you said, taking the object and leaving it on the bedside table. “Is there something she should know? If she wakes up…” you asked again.

“Mm, well, she's probably worried about her siblings. Tell her that they're okay. That Winters vermin made the mistake of coming here first… how predictable…” Miranda muttered. “And above all… don’t let her open her wounds, oh, and change the bandage, if the wounds get infected… none of this will have served any purpose.”

“Yes, Mother Miranda,” you said, without paying any more attention to her

She gave you one last intriguing look and disappeared from the bedroom. Hours passed, you didn’t know how many, a time that seemed eternal while you watched the unconscious lady, while you caressed her in silence, praying for her to open her eye.

She didn’t. Donna slept all day and all night. Of course you listened to Miranda’s advice, and you took care of her even forgetting about yourself. You didn’t know how much time had passed, in that place it was difficult to tell, but you didn’t move from there, not until her hand, which you held relentlessly, began to move.

“Mm…” a hoarse murmur caught your attention and you woke up from that kind of light sleep you were living in.

“Donna, Donna…” you said nervously, watching as she moved in pain, trying to get up. “No, no, Donna, don't get up, you'll open your wounds.”

“(Y/N)?” she asked confused. “Oh, cazzo…” she complained as she moved, lying back down on the bed with an agonizing moan.

“Don't move… that's it…” you said, lowering her body and covering it with the sheets. “Calm down, calm down…”

“I-I… what am I doing here?” Donna asked tiredly, looking at her bandaged body. “(Y/N), I… died…”

“No, no Donna. Mother Miranda saved you just in time,” you explained in a calm voice, running a hand through her hair, across her forehead, which had started to sweat.

“Mother Miranda?” she asked, hissing in pain. “Oh no… No, no!”

“D-Donna… what's wrong?” you asked, scared by her abrupt reaction. “Are you feeling sick? Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“I’ve failed! She trusted me and I've failed her!” the lady shrieked, moving dangerously, hitting the mattress with her hands.

“Shh, no, no… don't do that… you, you'll hurt yourself,” you said nervously, controlling her movements, watching her bandage. “Donna, please…”

“I had to protect Rose, and I’ve failed!” she shrieked again, pushing you unpleasantly.

The Angie doll moved, comically hiding behind you, fleeing from the irrational fury of her owner.

“Donna,” the puppet said. “Listen to (Y/N)…”

“Sono una stupida!” Donna shrieked, changing anger into desperate crying, covering her head with her hands. “Stupida, stupida, stupida!”

“No, that's enough,” you said, grabbing her wrists, truly scared “Donna, no!”

“Get away!” she screamed, pushing you to the floor and getting out of the bed, almost tripping in the process, doubling over herself. “I-I have to help them… he’s going after them…”

“Donna, please,” you said, getting up from the floor and holding her shoulders, watching as her wounds began to bleed again. “You can’t move, please…”

“Lasciami!” she shrieked, pushing you away again. “They need me!”

“They’re okay, Donna, your siblings are okay, Mother Miranda said that…” you said, trying to reason with her.

The lady looked at you with a fiery eye, falling to the floor after a cry of pain, grabbing her stomach with her hands.

“Donna!” you screamed, bending down to help her. “Please… t-they’re okay, it’s all over…”

“What do you want, (Y/N)?” she hissed, holding your gaze. “You’re with him, right? You did this to me!” she shouted angrily, growling and lunging at you, her hands around your throat.

“No, it's not true! Donna, please!” you cried, unable to move in case you hurt her more, desperately searching for something on the nightstand.

“Bad Donna, she didn't do anything!” Angie screamed, adding a little more to the chaos that had formed.

“Angie…” you said with a choked voice. “Angie, the syringe…”

“Right,” the doll said, bringing you the sedative, which you immediately stuck into the brunette's neck.

“You bitch!” Donna yelled, putting a hand on her neck. “You will pay…! You will pay for… for this,” she said, losing her voice, collapsing on top of you, completely sedated.

“Gods…” you said with her unconscious body in your arms, looking at Angie with fear. “Gods, Donna. A-Angie, help me to get her into bed.”

They were especially difficult days, but, luckily, Donna calmed down, making your care even easier. Little by little, her physical wounds were healing, but the emotional ones were still very present.

The lady in black spent a whole week without speaking to you, until that day.

“That's it… slowly,” you said, while you calmly gave her some soup, almost as if you were feeding a child. “Is it too hot?”

Donna shook her head, making her hair, now loose, move hypnotically.

“Okay… Hey, you look really beautiful with your hair like that, you should let it down more often,” you said amused, checking the bandage condition. “Look, you're not bleeding anymore, Donna, you're better.”

“You could have left,” she whispered for the first time, getting your attention, making the spoon you were holding tremble in your hand.

“What are you talking about? Come on, just one more…” you said in a loving voice, bringing the soup closer to her mouth, soup that she rejected with a childish grunt. “Donna… don't be… Ugh…”

“Why didn't you leave?” she asked, making you desperate but sigh and leave the plate on the table.

“I told you I didn't want to leave,” you whispered, cleaning her maternally with a napkin. “Do you want a yogurt?”

“I want answers, (Y/N),” Donna demanded, with a dangerous look. “Mother Miranda managed to deal with the problem, but… what if she hadn’t?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, absentmindedly fixing her hair, holding her intense gaze.

“Things could have gone much worse, I could have died, me, my siblings, even Mother Miranda…” Donna murmured, looking away. “There was no point in staying here.”

“For me, there was,” you whispered, with a sad look, arranging the sheets. “I’m your maid.”

“Maid… Ha…” she murmured, shaking her head with a mocking smile. “How long are you going to use that stupid excuse? You don’t owe me anything. No one in this fucking village owes us anything, (Y/N)… Why do you insist on staying?”

“Because of you,” you said with a dry voice and wet eyes. “I care about you, Donna.”

“Mm, what stupidity, I don’t care about you,” she said in a childish way, turning her head but looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

You laughed at that behavior and shook your head.

“Really? Oh, well… I think you asked me to take off your veil… what it was like… so I could see what you were really like,” you mocked, settling yourself on the mattress.

“Nonsense, I was dying,” she said, with a proud look.

“Yes, maybe it’s nonsense…” you sighed, picking up the tray. “You should rest. I will come in a while to heal you, okay?”

“(Y/N),” she said, with a cold, but different tone. “Why do you insist so much on making me believe that you care about me?”

“Because I care about you,” you said, not ending the conversation, sitting back down. “More than you think…”

“It was a lie,” the lady said out of the blue, making you blink confused and frown. “Actually… I care about you, (Y/N).”

“I know,” you whispered with a tender smile, one that she returned. “I know, Donna…”

“I didn't want to tell you because… I knew that if I did, you would never leave,” she commented distractedly, looking at you out of the corner of her eye. “But… I don't just care about you, (Y/N)…”

“Donna…” you sighed nervously.

“I think… I think I love you,” she whispered in a barely audible voice, playing with the sheets.

“You love me…” you repeated incredulously while she nodded. “Is that why you wanted me to leave? Because you love me?”

“Yes, I… I…” she said, confused too, nervous. “I didn't want someone like you… to have to go through this. I wanted you to be happy, (Y/N).”

You, a bit disoriented, but sure, approached her, softly placing your lips on hers, leaving her speechless, with her eye wide open.

“Mm, well you… you must focus on recover, okay?” you said nervously, fluffing her pillow. “When you're feeling better maybe… maybe you'd like to try to be happy with me…”

“(Y/N),” Donna said, moving her hand to yours as you got out of bed, regretting your involuntary act. “I don't want to wait… kiss me again, please…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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burningcheese-merchant · 1 month ago

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I was already down bad for Goldenspice thanks to you, and low-key struggling help to make that work in the version of canon in my head because I also ship GoldenCacao.

BUT NOW just reading your last post is convincing me more and more to just fuck everything and make a poly between Mystic Flour x Dark Cacao x Golden Cheese x Burning Spice. Because none can stop me... I guess :v

But anyways, I also just wanted to say that I love the way you write. Not only the fact that you write GoldenSpice, I just love the way you use words is just so so so so good and low-key gives an image of the story to the point I can imagine the scene in my head.

Keep the good work, take rests too. You are slaying with everything you write :D

Yes, my plan is working. More and more people have been reaching out to me and telling me I converted them to BurningCheese/GoldenSpice. I will use you all as my personal army. We will break into Fort Knox and steal all the gold. I will trade the gold for real money. I will use the money to buy out Devsisters, thus making me the owner of the Cookie Run games. I will make BurningCheese and PitayaFire canon, exactly per my personal artistic vision. I will anger a huge portion of the fanbase. There will be an angry mob at my doorstep. But they will be too late, as I would have already ascended to godhood and become impervious to all attacks long before they reach me. This is all in accordance with the prophecy. Attempting to delay or prevent your ultimate fate will only seal it further. Embrace death and suffering. Embrace destruction. The Tide of Change upon which I ride shall swallow you all whole.

Seriously though, thank you for your compliment! The way I see it is like this: an important aspect of storytelling is "show, don't tell" (and knowing how to balance both, of course), but that can be a lot harder to accomplish when you're writing without any accompanying pictures, because that is literally just "telling". I really do try to paint a picture with my words, so to speak. Telegraph movements, set up areas, convey emotion the best I can. I can't draw to save my life, unfortunately, so I have to express myself through pen and keyboard instead. I'm no Shakespeare but I do my best. And it really does mean a lot to me that people enjoy my work.

Expect more BurningCheese in the future, both here and on AO3! (And also other ships maybe, I actually do like several other ships quite a lot and would like to write about them as well)

#burningcheese #goldenspice

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pairofsunflowers · 7 months ago

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on the morning we were leaving the place our shakespeare through performance class performed Henry V for the last time, we were all saying our tearful goodbyes and my professor/director hugged me and tearfully said i was the heart and soul of the play (which made me even more choked up than i already was) and that maybe the reason they didn't take me last year (it's a relatively small class you have to apply and interview for to get in, and i'd applied and interviewed last year and i really really wanted it, but i didn't get it) was because the universe knew that they would need me this year. and i keep thinking about that. that's crazy... and in a way i think he's right. like. okay, for context. the previous professor/director/program coordinator passed away this past september, but he'd still directed the previous spring and summer classes. my mom passed away at the end of october and the application for this year's spring class was due a couple days after she died. i turned in the application apparently a day late (i still maintain i turned it in On the deadline, not past it, but whatever.) but my (future) prof let it slide and squeezed me in and i got to be in the class for the spring semester and it fucking changed my life, i can't hype it up enough. things were obviously hard for me after my mom passed, and i had a breakdown thinking i wouldn't get in the class, and then this semester i got the news an immediate family member of mine was going to be deported. in personal matters, it was the worst year of my life. but this class gave me friends and experiences and a passion that saved me this semester.

Henry V is one of my favorite plays of all time now and I have SUCH an affection for the character of henry and i could Literally talk about him as a character for hours if you let me. I got to star in this play and perform one of the most iconic and well known shakespeare monologues ever (once more unto the breach). and..... if i'd gotten in the spring class last semester....... i probably wouldn't have done it this year. not because you can't take the class again, you absolutely can and it's not uncommon to do so. but because i would have had the (wonderful, lifechanging) experience already, and the professor i would have done it with, james, would have passed only a month before my mom and then my mom died right before applications were due. i probably would have been too broken and depressed and sad to do it, and rationalized it as saying i wouldn't want to do it without james and without my mom to see it and i'd already experienced it once so whatever. it's fine. but because i hadn't gotten it last year, and i still really really wanted to do it, and unfortunately i'd never gotten the pleasure of getting to know james so his passing didn't hurt me emotionally, i just barely fought past the brokenness and depression i did feel after my mom passed to submit an application and i got in.

all this to say i remember feeling really really sad last year that i didn't get in the class. but. in a way, the universe kind of always works out, huh? like idk maybe not but that's what i like to believe for the most part, personally. it's that one pic of the dog begging for boiling water on the stove and the caption was like 'god when he sees what i'm praying for to happen.' if i'd gotten it last year, more likely than not i wouldn't have done it this year, which is almost inconceivable. who the hell would have played henry in act III..... that's MY role. and there's so many people in this year's class that i'm friends with and adore that i wouldn't have gotten to know if i didn't take the class this year. my director called me the heart and soul of the play and gave me so many compliments whenever he gave me notes. and in another world, i was never in Henry V. that's just so crazy! i guess everything works out down the line!

#kat text

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nimata-beroya · 2 years ago

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MY THOUGHTS ON TBB 2×15 "The Summit" and 2×16 "Plan 99"

To say that I'm devastated is an understatement. As I write this during my second viewing of the episodes, I keep tearing up even before you know what happens. This is NOT how I imagine this finale would go. I guess I can say that objectively, removing all emotional perspective, it was a great finale, one where the setting up along the season pays off.

But emotionally, it's awful. Absolutely and undeniably impossible to believe. It'll take me a long time to process this. And I'm not sure if I'm capable of sharing with you all my thoughts because of that. I'll try, but probably I'll skim over some things that seem irrelevant at the moment or simply too painful to talk about.

In hindsight, the batch should've collected every favor they're owed from people they've helped the last 2 season to pull this off with everyone alive! just sayin'!!

Nope. I'm not talking about Phee and Tech saying goodbye. Watching it for a second time threw me into another sobbing fit 😭😭😭

The summit, ugh! I hate everyone in there. And especially Hemlock with his awful ideas to experiment on clones, and also Tarkin, how does he dare to disrespect clones that way? Clones that he fought alongside, and even they gave up their lives to save him?!!

I can't deal with all the foreshadowing here. It's too painful 😭😭😭 I can't stop crying.

Half kudos to that imperial complimenting the clones. A little naive of his part to think the Empire cares about that. He should've known better, but at least he has a little bit more of a conscience than the rest. I don't know who he is because there's no credit for the voice actor.

For a moment, I thought the other group infiltrating was with Cody in command. I thought he might've not gotten to Rex yet and this was the way to connect them, of course, after he helped to save Crosshair. But I was wrong! I never liked Saw Gerrera, and now he jumped to be part of the characters I hate! If he had helped, no one would've died!! Part of the fault belongs to him!!

The escape on the railcar went fine! Yep! Everyone is fine!! Everyone lives!! Plan 99 who? I don't know her.

But leaving extreme denial aside, I must admit that the part where Tech and Hunter are escaping after being made by the stormtroopers and Saw left them to their luck is very well done. There's a particular moment that it's both of them almost going in and out of the focus of the camera as they go kicking stormtroopers' asses, that's absolutely awesome. And after I took a nap (being sleepy and emotional is a bad combination), the pain of Tech's sacrifice is a tad less raw, and I guess I can see why it was necessary. I hate it but yes, absolutely, it was in Tech to sacrifice himself for his siblings, like any of them would. That's why Plan 99 exists.

And some part of me knew that Plan 99 was about sacrifices, honoring how 99 died. I just thought that they'd subverted it and everything would be fine. But no.

As if it wasn't devastating enough to see Tech falling, they had to do a parallel, carrying injured Omega to the Marauder as they did injured Hunter in season 1. So rude of them!!

I can't blame Hunter for wanting to hide in a cave (or a remote island) and never leave again. This is why he's been so cautious since the beginning. They already lost one of their own, he didn't want to lose another. And yet, he was helpless to stop it from happening.

And we all knew Cid would betray them. No surprise there. At least, she doesn't look too happy about it. I hope the regret gnaw at her for the rest of her life. That she can't sleep thinking about it.

And of course, Hemlock had to appear and Omega wasn't going to obey Hunter. He should've known she wouldn't go.

And I really, really, reeaaaallllyy want to cling to the idea that Tech is not dead, that Hemlock found him injured and took him in, hence why he has Tech's glasses. I mean, this is Star Wars, and we know that death can be temporary. And you know what? It'd be great (not really, but you know what I mean) if Tech is alive and Hemlock uses him in one of his experiments. We could get Imperial Tech, which is a terrifying thing to think about. Because that intelligence used for evil, damn!!

Omega trying to save Hunter and Wrecker, my poor angel. You should've listened to your dad!

I loved how Echo was a menace with the stolen walker. Also, Hunter and Wrecker taking out the commandos even as injured as they are, nice, but I knew they weren't going to stop Hemlock from taking Omega.

And like I saw a post earlier, Hunter just entered in his Joel Miller phase for Season 3. Anyone who gets in his way to find Omega is dead already. I agree 100%!

And clown of me to think that we'd get a fair share of Crosshair screen time during these 2 episodes, and all we got is 30 sec of unconscious Cross!! Ugh!! and still a prisoner!!

The theory that Emerie is a female clone too turned out to be true, altho I don't care much about it. I guess they want to show how Omega would be if she had stayed with the Kaminoans/Empire. I guess I have to wait and see what this is going.

I have more thoughts, but I'm too distressed to keep going. The season overall was way above my expectations, but the jury is still out about the finale. I have too many conflicting emotions about it. *SIGHS* Now, it starts the long waiting for season 3.

But in the meantime, and bringing a happier note, let me remind you that there's ONLY 2 DAYS before the phase 1 of prompt voting for the bad batch appreciation week 2023 is over!!

Check the link below, and remember that you can vote as many times you want!

#episode review #tbb s2 spoilers #tbb season 2 spoilers #tbb spoilers #tbb 2x15 the summit #tbb 2x16 plan 99 #tbb #the bad batch #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb wrecker

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katzirra · 1 year ago

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Aggressively rubs my face, complaining about anything in life feels so tedious compared to what's going on in the world. World events and disasters and genocides and just fucking everything make you feel so small and worthless. Like god damn I feel guilty for thinking how stressed I am because HAHAH COULD BE WORSE, BITCH. WHICH is kind of a weird thing the internet really uh, perpetuates. Which is kinda what people get at when they say take care of your mental health.

Like I'm staying as up to date as I can but it's... wow it's hard to stomach, and it's hard to know what to do when you're in a financial spot lmao... Fucking god damn. Like carrying on like normal is really hard because there's that thought in the back of my mind right now about how upsetting it is realizing so many people can't do that. Will never do that again. It's like tv static in my head lately low key saddening me more and more.

But yaknow that just sounds like I'm complaining about a world event, but it's not. It's just...a profound sadness. Saturating things. I find myself just kinda sitting lately unsure what to be doing that feels... productive in this time. Not really feeling, uh, creative or happy. I dunno. Low simmering fear as well tbh.

That wasn't the topic I was planning to post about uh... FRIVOLOUS UPDATES I GUESS... I USE TO DO THOSE, YEAH? IDK WHO CARES ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE THESE DAYS TBH LOL

Taking a break from Xig because I'm just ..out of it and need the expectations off me for a second.

Having anxiety even checking my art blog because people weirdly correcting me/giving me a compliment that's shorter than a correction and making me come off rude telling them I'm not wrong makes me anxious as hell :))) so I end up avoiding my own haunts!!! How fucky is that.

I am almost done with my small sketchbook?? I was fixing a few pages up before hitting a few dried out Copics, which lead to me checking all of them to see who I needed to fix/replace and uh... relocate them in my office. Which became redoing my pen pouches and seeing if those got fucked up. Hopefully I'll finish that and start scanning. 2018-2023... with huge gaps in there lol...

I miss doing art I liked. Its kinda stagnant atm so I might take the rest of the year to do studies on angles and shit tbh. I need something. It all feels same same.

Uhhh figuring out some dental stuff - bought myself a bougie electric toothbrush and I think my old one's timer was fucked up and making me brush too long?? Which is bad!!! So this new one already has my teeth feeling better 👏 mom's genetics have me terrified!! My teeth feel better after two brushes??? insane.

Getting bloodwork done Thursday so hopefully figuring some shit out about my weight and health :))) I'd like to lose the like 20-45lb I mysteriously seemed to gain over the past few years??? Uhhh??? And figure my periods out, money has just been BAD since Hannibal's surgery....

Having panic scares about if my job is going away in December or not and hating every job listing I see online so I gotta look for whatever listing sites exist outside indeed. Also something this decent with the same pay :)))))) so that's on my todo list... again.

Box spring is busted on my bed, so hopefully I don't have to replace the mattress just yet because of the previous point AND THE FACT I JUST STARTED GETTING TO SAVE FOR MY PC..... first world problems but fuck, dudes. Vakarian is fucking suffering sometimes... :(( but we'll see because MATTRESS PRICES.......!!!

I cleaned my office and room and that made me feel like I've accomplished something for myself so that's... something.

Trying to focus on things. Depression cocktail is going on..... money, job, housing, health, the world... it's all so much all the time, man.

#kat life #kat talks #ignore me #this is just feelings and ugh updates on my shit!!

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inkofamethyst · 1 year ago

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August 14, 2023

Went to Target, noticed that many of the decorations on sale were deep greens and pale purples, realized that maybe I'm not quite as original with my ideal room colors as I'd anticipated. What is life but a series of events in which I realize that I'm not as special as I thought I was (I am being dramatic and hyperbolic but still).

Took out my mini twists (finally); in loveeee with the ultra-defined fro. Game-changing style for sure, but I can't wait this long in the future to take them out bc the twists were majorly raggedy.

In this day and age, and into the future, I can imagine personal branding becoming more and more important in landing academic jobs. And by that I specifically mean having some sort of online presence that connects who you are to what you do. That one old friend of mine, probably the person I've known the longest outside my family even if we really don't ever speak, she is very successfully building an online brand doing just that, and it's pretty incredible to watch, actually.

Speaking of branding, I'm trying to come up with pseudonyms to change my name to. Mostly to minimize the effect of this blog on any personal branding I may decide to do (I recognize that the internet is forever and that the damage is therefore already done, but no one needs to know that I have a deeply and perhaps inappropriately personal tumblr whatsoever). Genuinely, I'm the kind of person to grow unreasonably attached to the first thing I come up with (floralfountainpens), but I want to spend some time considering several options. I give myself a month max to think on it.

Oh also I'm normally a matte lipstick girlie but my mom convinced me to try the maybelline lifter gloss and I think I actually kind of like it?? It's really buttery, non-sticky, and, best of all, works well with my skin tone even though it looks crazy pink. I've been a little inspired by Barbie, I guess. I dig it.

I'm watching phd vlogs on youtube (because of course I am), and this small vlogger I'm watching right now talked about how she was a commenter on some papers at a conference for the first time. As she was describing this role (and I've seen this done once or twice I think at the national conference I went to the past two years), I was horrified at first by how daunting the task seemed. I really struggle with trying to sound appropriately intelligent (...to prove that I am capable of being in a situation and not raise anyone's doubts which I now recognize is not a particularly healthy attitude), so coming up with meaningful commentary/critique, especially if on the spot, sounds horrific. Then, I realized how similar it is to something I did in my last two years of undergrad. For the last two years, I was a moderator for what is essentially a conference for my humanities program, and I had to perform a fairly similar task: asking insightful and coherent questions to panelist presenters whose work I was seeing for the first time. I actually received compliments on my moderation. So I'm not as fully unprepared for that kind of thing as I might think. Which is a little cool. [edit: I think one of the biggest takeaways from my experiences as a moderator is that coherent and simple but interesting questions are better than rambly and intelligent-sounding questions. Of course, I'd like to go to more talks and symposia in grad school to really dissect this kind of role so that I may be prepared for it, just in case.]

And you know while I'm far from being a crypto bro, I'm starting to like,,,, lowkey get into investing???? In the simplest ways possible, really, with a Roth IRA and a CD (and medium-yield savings account I guess), but the idea of getting started early, making regular contributions, and then possibly not having to worry about retirement (assuming we survive as a species long enough for me to get there) is kinda sick ngl. Most of my money isn't really liquid, I guess, which is a little nerve-wracking, but The Market generally seems to be headed upward, so I'm not pressed in the slightest right now. The FDIC can't hold my hand forever if I wanna see real gains. At least, that's how rich wealthy people see it.

Last thing: I liked Barbie for its obnoxious femininity. The first two-thirds or so felt like a release. It was silly, it was goofy, it made me smile. The last quarter or third or so in its seriousness did have a real message which I could relate to on some level, but it felt fairly didactic, especially the whole monologue on what it was like to be a woman or whatever. Like yeah, the message was there, but I felt like the movie beat me over the head with that bit out of fear that the audience wouldn't get it maybe? I think They Cloned Tyrone did a better job at having a clear overtone message without being as in-your-face with it (or maybe they just balanced the message with the plot a bit better idk). There are certainly other criticisms of Barbie that I've encountered, and while they have merit, I feel like I can just accept this movie as its own new thing. [edit: To add, a """seminal work""" [edit 2: isn't it peculiar, calling a movie like this "seminal" ... what about ungendered terms for the same thing... alternatives include influential, groundbreaking, formative, innovative. I like the term, generally, but I sort of wish there was a feminine equivalent.] doesn't need to be flawless, in my opinion. It merely needs to exist and set in motion some sort of change in thought as a result of its reception (whether that change is how the audience approaches media or how creators approach media or something else entirely). I think Lost is another example of an imperfect work that changed media and still deserves recognition despite its shortcomings. Time will tell whether Barbie is the start of some wave or if it merely remains a one-of-a-kind event.]

TODAY IM THANKFUL FOR THE STAR TREK STRANGE NEW WORLDS MUSICAL EPISODE???? Never in my life did I think that this serious sci-fi franchise would be able to pull such a thing off, but that error's on me because this franchise switches between silly and serious at the drop of a hat. Like,,,,, "Apologies, the most confounding thing: I appear to be singing; most unusual, so peculiar" LITERALLY CRYING AAAAAAAA THE WHOOOOooOOoOoOOooOLE THING (vocals, orchestration(!!!!!), plot, ensemble, choreo, technobabble) WAS SO STINKING FUN

((in two weeks im flying away.))

[edit: this post was all over the place (even more than usual) because it's more of a collection of thoughts from the past several days rather than a single entry written all at once]

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fl5793 · 2 years ago

Text

Ruthless

Chapter 7

I was in the bathroom putting my hair up in a bun.

"Hey, I'm Gabriella Naveen, but you probably already know that since you read the beginning hopefully you did," I said, finally getting my hair how I wanted.

"Just in case you didn't, let me summarize for you. See, I used to be a pro talent boxer but decided to retire because my husband is tired of seeing me risk my life, so he encouraged me to get a new job where I became a teacher. Little did he know I'm also living a double life as an assassin who's teaching high schoolers how to become assassins. "That's about it," I explain, and then go downstairs.

"Hey, Gabby, where are you? Oh, okay, good, I made breakfast if you want," Nathan says, and I sit on the chair with hearts in my eyes.

"Living with the perfect husband is awesome, especially since perfect in my book is a guy who can cook," I said, starting to eat the french toast he made for me.

"You won't be getting much of that from me, because you're probably not going to see me when you wake up," Nathan says, checking the time.

"Bye, love you," Nathan says, leaving immediately.

I look at the missing figure in fear of hearing those words.

"No more good food?" "Only my cooking... NOOOO!" I said and finished the last of the french toast, savoring its flavor before leaving.

"Having to take buses is tiring. I just want to go back to sleep. I can't wait for Saturday and Sunday," I said to myself, but

Once I arrived to school, I never realized how early it was.

"Why did I leave in such a hurry, it's 7:40, and I have literally 20 minutes?" I asked myself and became even more tired.

As I put my head down because I'm about to fall asleep, someone knocks on my door.

"Hey, Mrs. Naveen, here is the attendance folder." Someone says, and he looks to be Asian.

"Oh, Mr. Parks, long time no see," I said, waking up but not fully.

"Mrs. Naveen Yes, it has been a long time. "Nice to see one of Danville's high school sweethearts are still together," Mr. Park says.

"So Sam, you're a nurse at this school?" I was intrigued by him.

"Yes, indeed, I also do some after-school medical lessons just like you," Mr. Park says, and some kid enters.

"Wow, Mrs. Naveen, you do tutoring after school. I could use some." The boy says, and Olivia slaps the back of her head.

"Good save," I mouthed towards him, and she accepted the compliment.

"Shut up, you only want her to tutor you so you can be your usual perverted self around her. Your lucky she hasn't seen the pictures," Olivia says, and I fully wake up.

"Pictures?" I said I was surprised and almost lost my high-pitched voice.

"Aye, Ollie, you know you shouldn't hurt boys, especially ones who are learning," Mr. Parks says.

"You see, this is why Mr. Parks is so cool," the boy says.

"I mean, the boy is probably still learning how to grow chest hair and upper lip hair, so let the boy learn," Mr. Parks says, then me. Olivia and most of the class laugh at him.

"For all you know, I could have alopecia, and you could've just done Chris Rock," the boy says.

"Well, guess what, G. "I Joe should have been going out there and helping out Jane," Mr. Parks says, and I chuckled.

The two took their seats while I was hooting with laughter.

"Gotta go," Mr. Parks says.

The rest of the school day was boring until we began assassination classes.

"Okay people, when using a gun, specifically a pistol, I want you all to learn that--" I was interrupted when I saw Sam enter the room in very mature clothes.

"Hey, um, sorry to inform you so late, but there are some people who are not aware of our work coming in, and one of them is your husband," Sam explains, and I was shocked.

"Okay, Gen Z's I need you all to act like this is a small class and put the tables back. "Courtney, you won't mind?" I asked, and she rolled her eyes.

There were a bunch of tables behind them that I moved because we needed that room for training and couldn't find any other free room.

Once Courtney was done placing the tables and chairs, they sat down.

"Hey Sam, can you somewhat stall him if he comes?" I asked him as if I had asked; I was practically begging him.

He nods and stands outside, closing the door behind him.

"Wait a minute, where's Charlie?" Courtney asks

"Wherever Austin and Dallas are," Daniella says.

"Austin and Dallas haven't arrived at the training sessions, and it's been almost two weeks since we started," I said and sat in a chair.

"Well, they have rich families, so they can do whatever they want." "You know I should really date one of them, or both, because they could boost my YouTube channel," Penelope says, checking her nail and looking at them with a satisfied face.

I started biting my nails waiting for him and hoping they don't meet up.

As I see Charlie walk in his joyful mood like always, I met eyes with my husband right before Charlie closed the door.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Someone tells outside of the door

I noticed that Charlie closed the door on his tail.

I run to the door and open it.

"Is your tail okay?" I'm so sorry for what my student did. "Are you okay?" I asked, worried about him, and started rubbing his tail.

Nathan takes his tail back.

"You know you're not supposed to rub my tail; it makes me feel weird," Nathan says, and I just hug him.

"Hey, Nate, why aren't you wearing a shirt?" Sam asked, is she still there?

I looked at him and noticed that he only had a lab coat on.

I blushed profusely at the fact that I was leaning against his chest.

"Hey Gabbie, what's the wifi password?" Penelope asked and then looked up.

Penelope pretty much falls in love with Nathan and starts sending out poisonous gas immediately.

"Penelope, stop," I said and started coughing.

"Can you please stop whatever you're doing and stop hurting my wife?" Nathan asked politely.

"Wife? With this thing? Men need to get better taste," Penelope says and walks away, sucking up the poison again.

"Oh god," Sam says, and starts covering up his face with a mask.

"Hey watch it, my wife is the most amazing person in the world. I'm glad to be blessed by God with someone like her," Nathan says, and I get back up due to how cute he is.

"Wow, he really is handsome," Olivia says, and she blushes a bit.

"Yeah, and so what? I don't need my girl gushing over some guy," Daniella says, and Olivia chuckles.

"There's no need to be jealous." Olivia teases, and Daniella crosses her arms.

"Shut up," Daniella says.

Courtney looks at Nathan, then at Kent, then at Nathan, then at Kent again, and hugs Kent.

"I choose you." Courtney says she's hugging him, but Kent didn't even hear what she said, so he continues watching his video while rubbing her arm.

"Listen, I don't understand what y'all find attractive about this man, who probably looked like crap before he got that swimsuit model body," Rubiana says and rolls her eyes.

"No need to be jealous just because you can't get a man," Olivia teases.

"Or woman," Daniella says, adding on to the teasing.

I'm surprised people like my hubby this much—who wouldn't have hard rock abs, a handsome face, a nice personality, and to top it all off, an amazing ass?

It's so surprising that he never looked this way.

"I'm surprised that you're blushing just by looking at my body, especially since we've seen each other naked," Nathan says, and everyone looks at them.

"Keep y'all's dirty fantasies to yourselves," Daniella says.

"We're both virgins," Nathan says loud and proud, and I definitely knew he was making fun of me.

"Still?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Okay Daniella, is there some way we can have a three-way with that man?" Olivia whispers.

"Ollie, you're disgusting, plus I'm lesbian, so that only works in your favor," Daniella says and looks at Olivia with a disgusted face, and she just shrugs.

"Olivia "I can hear you," Sam says, and Olivia looks at him with a terrified face.

Yep, my husband is both a chick magnet and annoying, and he's also adorable.

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the-modern-typewriter · 2 years ago

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Hi I have a request! Can you write a female demisexual protagonist discussing with her friend (any gender) about her sudden attraction to the villain (male)? I've had this idea for a while and I want to see your take on it!

"So, like." The protagonist dumped their bag on the library table without preamble. "Demisexuality is when you're only sexually attracted to people you have a close emotional bond with, right?"

"That is the definition you gave me when you came out, yes." Shaan snagged the coffee from across the table, taking a sip. "You're the expert."

"Does anger and hatred count as a close emotional bond?"

Shaan paused. Her gaze flicked up. She very slowly put the coffee back down.

The protagonist sighed, and flopped into a chair, carding her fingers through her hair. Her cheeks still felt hot and flustered from seeing Him, capital infernal letter required.

"Ah," Shaan said, looking her up and down.

"Don't 'ah' me. And don't smile. This is terrible!"

"There's no accounting for taste, it's true."

"It's not funny. He is the worst. Do you know what he did today? Do you?"

"Something nefarious?"

"He complimented me!"

"The monster."

The protagonist jabbed a warning finger at Shaan's dry tone. "He's trying to throw me off my game. It won't work."

"I suppose hate sex is a thing. You could get him out of your system that way."

The protagonist perked up, lifting her head from her hands. "Do you think that will work?"

Shaan raised her eyebrows.

The protagonist groaned, shoulders sagging. "Kill me."

There was a beat of silence between them.

"...okay. so, not to put words in your mouth, and feelings in your heart," Shaan said, "but as the outside observer here...you don't actually hate him, right? I can't tell how much you're being dramatic and how much you actually think that's true. Because you don't act like you hate him."

The protagonist stared. "He's a villain."

"Sure. He's also saved your life like five times."

"I wouldn't have needed saving in the first place if he wasn't a villain."

"Alright."

The protagonist buried her face in her hands again, memories flashing through her head. His hand on her arm, steadying her. His eyes bright with emotion. The fact that, for all of his villainy, he had always, always, always listened to her wishes. Okay. Maybe she didn't totally hate him, but he definitely made her mad. He was infuriating.

"Also," she mumbled, "just because he's not a bastard 100% of the time, still doesn't mean I should want to sleep with him!"

"Okay. But it also doesn't make you a bad person if you do want to sleep with him."

The protagonist stilled. She swallowed.

"Sure," Shaan said, "there's such a thing as falling for the wrong person. But the emotion isn't what decides anything. Just because you want to sleep with him, doesn't mean you have to. Also, for the record, even if you did, it still doesn't have to be a moral statement. Or a commitment." She paused. Her head tilted. "Except, I guess, for the fact that you're already attached. Emotionally compromised. Being...demi and all."

"Thanks, Shaan."

"I don't know what you want me to say! Oh no. Don't do it. He's gorgeous. I'd do it."

"Shaan!"

"I'm just saying. You could do worse."

"Than a villain."

"Than a guy who obviously thinks the world of you."

"...he does?"

"Again. He's saved your life five times, as the most obvious example of this. You really hadn't noticed?"

The protagonist blinked.

"Wow," Shaan said. "Okay. Sorry."

The protagonist's cheeks were burning again. She exhaled a calming breath. She needed to think, it seems.

"Look," Shaan said, and touched her hand. "You don't have to decide or do anything about it. That point stands. Does that help?"

"I'd really much rather hate him."

"I know."

"This is so inconvenient."

"Love be like that sometimes."

"We're not using the L word!"

Shaan put her hands together in a prayer position, to beg apology.

The protagonist huffed, then began to laugh in spite of herself, shaking her head. "Thanks," she said, when she could breathe again.

Shaan smiled, a little gentler, and squeezed her hand.

"Anytime."

#demisexuality #villains #writing #story #short story #fic #ficlet #writing snippet #story snippet

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jungw8ns · 3 years ago

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GOING TO AN ESCAPE ROOM WITH ENHYPEN !

PAIRING: boyfriend!enha x gn!reader. GENRE: established relationship, fluff, crack. WARNINGS: profanity (not that much tho), mentions of death (?). WORD COUNT: 100 - 200 each member.

HEESEUNG:

the two of you were so pumped playing an escape room together for the first time that the other people in line had to calm you guys down (which was trully embarrassing to say the least 🤐🤐)

he was looking at the ranking board filled with pictures of players that had succeeded in the shortest amount of time and he just wanted nothing more than to see both your faces on there

but anyways, we all know how competitive heeseung gets 🕴️

oh boy let me tell you, this guy WAS SPEEDRUNNING IT but not the kind you were thinking

the second the timer had started he was literally SPRINTING AROUND THE ROOM LOOKING FOR CLUES YET COMPLETELY MISSING THEM 🏃‍♂️💨💨💨

while he was busy running around, you were picking up the little details in the room and in no time managed to open a few locks

"y/n look i found– oh 😐😑😐"

HE WAS SULKING PLSSS 😭😭😭

when you noticed him standing from afar staring at you with his arms crossed, you called him to solve this one puzzle you already did

*gasps* "oh no! babe i don't understand how to do this, please help me 😔😔🤥🙏🙏"

he had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from letting out that cocky grin but it got out eventually

"oh it's so easy sweetheart, just put this here and then voila! 😉"

when the two of you escaped you suprisingly got to take a polaroid with him home after ranking 2nd in the records

heeseung was the one who held onto it tho, placing it underneath his clear phonecase for safekeeping <3

JAY:

GOD THIS DUDE

THE ESCAPE ROOM WASN'T EVEN THAT SCARY AND YET EVERYTIME YOU GUYS OPEN A LOCK OR A DOOR HIS FIGHT OR FLIGHT INSTINCTS COME UP 😭😭👊👊

"y/n stay behind me >:(("

"um, babe, you do realize that's just a door right?"

"WE'LL BETTER SAFE THAN SORRY?? THE STAFF COULD'VE PROGRAMMED IT TO GROW LEGS?? 😵🧐🧐"

you knew you shouldn't have played horror games with him a few nights ago cause he looked like he was about to lose his mind 😔

you had to shove his ass aside and move on to the next mission cause the both of you knew that he was stalling 🏌️‍♀️

jay was being extra clingy the whole time you were playing, he'd either link arms with you or hold hands (he's literally so adorable) 💞💞

BUT THEN YOU THOUGHT OF DOING A PRANK ON HIM

while you were roaming around the room trying to solve a puzzle, you saw this horse mask on a nearby table

and so you made sure jay was distracted and put on the mask

you could've NOT worn the dusty old thing but where was the fun in that?

"jay can you come here for a sec?"

you hid behind the wall beside the door frame waiting for him to come into your sight and attacked him

now, how about we guess what happens next?

a. he faints

b. he runs away

or c. he slaps you in the face and forces you to buy him food for the rest of the night

if you guessed c then YAY! YOU'RE CORRECT 🥳🎉🎉🎊

THIS HOE SLAPS YOU AS HE SHOULD

"$##/@+(+'£%(:?!!)&£**/*%@"

when he finally takes off the mask like those scenes in scooby doo he's never felt so betrayed in his life

"i- I TRUSTED YOU 😭😭😭 YOU BETTER BUY ME FOOD LATER, I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS, THE BETRAYAL???? LITERALLY UNPROVOKED?????"

he wouldn't stop side eyeing you until you guys finally pulled up on the mcdonalds drive thru

"hi, can i get two um– bts meals please? 😒😒 and two oreo mc flurries 🙄🙄 and also large fries 😐😐"

sane (1/3)

would be trailing behind you like a little puppy (i love him so much 😭😭😭)

he either has his arm linked with yours or held hands every five minutes

JAKE:

really focused on the puzzles he's doing but the second he hears you call out his name for help he's there beside you with the sweetest smile

but anyways, mans was POPPING OFF the entire time you were playing

he was solving problem after problem in no time (he wanted to impress you is why he activated his inner flash ⚡⚡) but he did let you play tho, the last thing he wanted to do was make you pissed at him for hogging all the games

def buried jake with compliments and forehead kisses right after ❤️__❤️

and so the two of you got out in like an hour and a few which you were very proud of

"you were so cool today babe, good job !!"

"aww thank you angel 😊😊"

sane (2/3)

SUNGHOON:

would be linking pinkies with you the whole time, only letting go whenever the both of you had to solve something that needed two or more people

there was this one game tho where he had to arm wrestle this literal hand lever to open the door to the last room (yea...don’t ask why, the staffs were pretty weird 😬😬)

it made him enjoy the experience a bit more as it was only the two of you playing instead of getting accompanied by strangers

HGAWAHSGDHSGHDA PLSS THIS GUY

“oh this’ll be easy, y/n step aside, i’ll handle this 😏😏😏”

idk if you were supposed to think about how handsome he looked with his serious expression on and his veiny hands coming into frame or be worried for him because the lever was REAL HARD to pull that his veins looked like they were going to pop any second soon, you stepped in and helped him tho cause you were a good s/o <3

from a spectators point of view, the two of you looked like y’all were about shit your pants but the two of you eventually succeeded on beating it, immediately dragging him to the next room which had a sofa in it, laying down to catch your breaths

cliché moment ahead ⚠️⚠️

the two of you shared a few laughs before standing up on the empty space, held hands and started to jump in circles to celebrate your success 💃💃

yupp, y’all were never going back to that hellhole again

very stubborn at first, he wanted nothing to do with the game but then you held him at gunpoint by saying:

SUNOO:

"please just this once or else i'll revoke your mint choco ice cream rights 🔫🔫🔫"

"BUT IT'S SCARY IN THERE BABE :((("

"it won't be that scary sunshine, besides, i'll be ready to 🤜💥 yk?? trust me babe i would never let anyone hurt you <33"

kinda pissed since you blackmailed him into the place and also bc he wanted to play bumper cars and dance mania but he yea he caved in pretty quick 😋😋

(y/n let him play his games in peace tf >:(((( )

once you guys got in tho he realized how normal it was and that it was not terrifying at all

THE EPITOME OF CLINGY OMFG

he wouldn't stop back hugging you and you couldn't bring yourself to push him away to play the games so you just let him walk behind you with his arms on your shoulders 😩😩

(y'all were walking kinda funny but don't tell sunoo that 🤫🤫🤫)

yea the two of you ended up escaping with a whopping 2 hours and a few minutes

but it was the effort that counts so A+++++ for the both if you 😜👍👍👍

sane (3/3)

JUNGWON:

was the one who suggested going, he even searched on naver about really good escape room places to visit and was overall really looking forward it

he liked going to places and having fun with you so it wasn't a shock how his eyes were literally crescents and his dimples were so evident

yea he literally rushed the both of you to the place that you were the first in line 😵

while waiting for the staff to finish setting up he was playing with your connected hands like 🖐️✊🖐️✊ (so precious 💞💞)

"y/n why are you taking so long 😭😭 what if they close and we end up not solving a single lock, hurry up por favorrr 😩🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏"

when they finally lead you to the room he was kind of surprised that they had separated the two of you into different spaces (like the one with txt where they had the answers to the other member's puzzles yk???)

he was locked inside a telephone stand while you were handcuffed in the main room

dw the two of you reunited after a few minutes cause jungwon was rushing his lock to get to you 🤭

you both were progressing at an average pace and it made you guys a lot more closer (not that you guys weren't before but you get what i mean)

after you guys escaped the two of you went to eat curry and talked about the whole experience 😋✌️✌️✌️

this boy literally dragged you in the escape room with him

NIKI:

HE DIDN'T EVEN GIVE YOU TIME TO REFUSE HE JUST 😐👉🚪

"ok masterchefs, in order to test your abilities we must go through series of puzzles and make it out alive, understood?"

he tried ignoring how confused you were and went on to try and get you guys to escape

HE'S LAUGHING AT YOU FOR WHATEVER REASON AND OBV YOU LAUGH ASWELL CAUSE WHO WOULDN'T??? his laugh is so contagious pls 🤖🤖 he was so close to d wording cause he couldn't breathe from laughing too much

yea.. you guys spent so much time laughing at each other for being so dumb at this that you ended up playing 'till closing time

spoiler alert: he fails on doing anything cause the second you made eye contact with him this child collapses 😍🤩

GIRL SO EMBARRASSING 🤡🤡

THE STAFF KICKED THE BOTH OF YOU OUT AND NOW YOU GUYS WERE BANNED FROM THE PLACE ☠️☠️

"haunted house next weekend???"

"BET"

NOTE – god they were WAY funnier in my head but yeah.... i love them so much AND OMFG HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN HEESEUNG’S SELCAS LAST NIGHT???!?@??#?@?!?@ HE’S NOT REAL WTF ⁉️❓❓⁉️

also, idk why BUT EVERY TIME I SAVE A DRAFT the paragraphs get scrambled?? £!?) 6=6) 🤣😂💔💔🤣🤣😂💔 it's so annoying but anyways, ilysm pls stay safe and have a great day <33

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen x gender neutral reader #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #niki x reader #jungw8ns

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dailyreverie · 3 years ago

Note

Oh! These are so good!

How about a soulmate AU and flirting under fire with our favourite Fly Boy Poe?

Nice to meet you (Soulmate AU)

A/N: Flirting under fire? That is such a Poe thing to do I'm in love. Warning: some f words, this turned out a little bit longer but the prompts were so cute and I got carried away.

24. Soulmate AU 69. Flirting under fire

Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a character (Bucky Barnes or any Oscar Isaac Character)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn. reader

Word count: 641

There were shots being fired in every direction as you and your squadron made your way over to were the Black Squadron was left stranded. Their mission had gone wrong, and you had been called to the rescue. As the leader you went to cover his, spotting the head of curls you had seen around the base.

You had not had a chance to meet Commander Dameron before, being on different squadrons and on completely different schedules it was difficult for you to have met before. You've seen the posters, though, so you know what to expect from this particular pilot.

You approach him, your blaster shooting at full speed as you cover his back. "Nice to finally meet you, Commander!" You shout over the noise of the blasters.

Poe freezes at your words, shooting a few more Troopers before turning to look at you. "What the fuck did you just say?" He exclaimes, making it your turn to look at him shocked. Your eyes are open like plates when you meet his, both of you starring at each other incredulously.

"There's no way-" Your words are interrupted by Poe shooting at someone behind you, shoving you to his back to cover you. He turns to look at you after, pulling his sleeve up his forearm just as you do yours. The words you just spoke to each other had been imprinted on your skin your whole lifes and were now beginning to fade.

"I can't believe this is how I meet my soulmate," Poe starts before you shoot some troopers at your side. "In the middle of a battle of all places." He's back at shooting too, both of you covering each other.

"Were you expecting to meet me somewhere else?" You can't see it but his eyes travel to you, watching your every moment in awe.

"I should've known my soulmate looks great with pilot suits, it would have save me some time."

"Eyes to the front, Commander." You roll your eyes as you notice his gaze burning trough your orange suit. "To be honest, I always though mine would be some drunk at a bar looking for a fight." As you clear your side you turn to look at Poe, shooting one Trooper that was coming behind him. "Not precisely a romantic choice of words, Dameron."

Your eyebrow cocking up makes him smirk before he laughs, and dammit aren't you glad that he is your soulmante. "Well I guess I have to make up for it, don't I?" Poe starts shooting again, taking down the troopers that were approaching you. "What are you doing when we get back? Let me take you to dinner." He asks over the noise of blaster shots.

"Are we seriously doing this right now? Can it wait until we are not being shot at?" Your questions come with a slight laughter.

"Well what do you want me to do, sweetheart? I just met my soulmate and turns out they're great with a blaster. I'm only a man, I have weaknesses."

You laugh again, hearing also the smile in his voice. "You don't have to flirt with me Commander, I guess we are already stuck with each other for life."

"Please, call me Poe." A few more Troopers reach you, not letting you put your blasters down.

You shout your name back, blushing when he compliments it. "Commander has a nice ring to it, though." You say back with a smirk, playing along with his flirting. You turn to look at him again only to find him already looking at you with an amused look in his eyes.

"Fuck. Please let me take you to dinner." Poe shakes his head, not being able to believe how on the stars had he gotten so lucky.

You laugh, the weight of the situation suddenly hitting you. "You don't have to beg, Poe. I'm already yours."

✨✨✨

Thanks for reading! Reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

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#poe dameron blurb #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x gender neutral reader #poe dameron x you #poe x you #poe x reader #poe dameron soulmate au #soulmate au

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sebstanns · 4 years ago

Text

Deserve

Summary: You broach a tricky subject with Bucky. Recovering / soft Bucky x female reader. Angst / fluff / smut.

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content. Unprotected sex. Language.

A.N: I kept meaning to write for Steve but this happened. I usually write for Boyd Holbrook characters on my sideblog - Masterlist.

I didn’t tag anybody but let me know if you’d like to be, possibly a part 2 or a prequel to this. I’d like to thank @ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook for her constructive feedback! It’s my first time writing for Bucky so please be kind!

Your heart skips a beat when you see Bucky waiting outside your office building, holding a bunch of flowers no less. He's awkwardly leaning against a wall, eyes darting around searching for you.

"You shouldn't have." You smile as you approach him.

"I was just passing." He murmurs, cheeks flushing as you kiss him.

"Passing a flower stall too?" You ask, accepting the blooms.

"Yeah, I guess so." He smiles.

"Mr Barnes, sorry to bother you." A voice pipes up. You turn and vaguely recognise the guy, you've seen him in the office building. What does he want with Bucky though?

Bucky eyes him warily. "Do I know you?"

"Oh no, I'm uh....I'm a big fan." the guy stammers, starting to sweat.

"So you're a fan of my work as the Winter Soldier or...”

"No no, I mean since then. Saving the world and everything."

"Sure, thanks." Bucky sighs.

You kind of feel for the guy, Bucky wasn't exactly known for accepting compliments, you know that better than anyone.

"Hey, can I get a selfie?" the guy asks, pulling out his phone.

"He's off duty, sorry." You say diplomatically, taking Bucky’s arm. "Let's get going."

"I'll never get used to that, " Bucky mumbles, as you steer him away from his fan. "I spent so much effort trying to hide and now..." He trails off.

"You saved the world, that's what people know you for now." You say, determined to put a positive spin on things.

"It wasn't just me." He says, as you cross the street. He moves his arm and grabs your hand instead, squeezing lightly. He's wearing gloves as is usual in public, concealing his gleaming hand in black leather.

You fall into a companionable silence as you head in the direction of your apartment. You can't help noticing that you're taking the route that happens to pass Bucky's favourite diner - where you first met in fact, a little over four months ago.

"Feel like coffee and pie?" He asks casually.

You grin at his predictability. "Sure."

Your flowers sit on the table in a kindly donated water jug as you and Bucky tuck into pie and ice cream, apple and cherry respectively.

"This...is...the...best...pie." Bucky says between mouthfuls.

"I knew you were going to say that." You tease.

He smiles, his eyes twinkling and crinkling at the corners. Oh, he seems so happy and relaxed, you impulsively decide to broach a tricky subject, figuring now to be a good a time as any.

"So, you know my sister's getting married in a couple of weeks." You begin, glancing at him as you toy with your food.

Bucky's eyes flicker and he fills his mouth with pie. "Hm-hmm." He mumbles.

You take a deep breath. "Well, I was wondering if you'd consider coming with me, as my plus one?"

He pales a little and offers a tentative smile. "I don't know sweetheart."

"Clare wants to meet you, that's all. You don't even have to stay for the full day, just to say hello."

"Sounds more like a family thing." Bucky says tightly, shifting in his seat.

"Well yeah," you swallow, feeling yourself flush. "But you are my....I mean..."

He sighs. "I don't think it's a good idea, you saw what happened outside your office. Imagine that times a hundred."

"Everyone will be focused on the wedding, my family won't bug you, I promise. They aren’t like that.”

Bucky scoffs. “You might be surprised how brave people get after a couple glasses of champagne.”

You sigh impatiently, feeling something inside you break. "What are we doing here Bucky?"

"I thought we were eating pie." He half-smiles.

"You know what I mean. Us." You hated to push him like this, you really did, and you already knew that he wouldn’t react favourably to it, but your developing relationship had seemed to come to a standstill lately.

"We agreed to take things slowly, didn’t we? One day at a time." He says quietly, reaching for your hand.

"But that was four months ago, I thought that we might have progressed beyond that by now. It's like one step forward two steps back with you." You say, your voice cracking with emotion.

"You're not my shrink, ok?" He snaps suddenly.

You slide your hand away from his and reach for your bag, tears forming in your eyes.

"I'm going home." You say softly..

"Don't go, please. I'm sorry." He says, looking up at you, a note of quiet desperation in his voice.

"Enjoy your pie." You sniff, not looking at him. You’re halfway home before you realise that you've left the flowers on the table.

X - X - X

By the time you get home you're angry with yourself more than anything else, cursing the fact that you even mentioned the wedding. You had agreed to take things slowly, but the truth is that you’re falling for Bucky and you want him to be a bigger part of your life. The wedding seemed like the ideal opportunity to introduce him to your friends and family, but on reflection, you realise how overwhelming it might be.

Half an hour later when there's a knock at the door, you know that it's Bucky. He's carrying the flowers, still in the water jug.

"The waitress said we could have this, I think she just felt sorry for me." He chuckles dryly, following you into the living room.

You can’t help but smile at the image of him walking down the street with the flowers.

"I'm sorry." You murmur, setting the flowers on your coffee table.

"Why are you sorry? I was a jerk back there." Bucky frowns.

"I shouldn't have pushed you like that."

"You weren't pushing." He sighs.

"I spooked you.” You say softly, looking up at him.

"Yeah." He smiles. "A little. Look, I’m still trying to figure this out."

"I know. Me too. I've never been in a relationship like this."

"I should hope not." He says wryly.

You chuckle, fighting the urge to just throw youself into his arms.

"I like you, so much." Bucky murmurs, his eyes searching yours as he strokes your face. "But I can't help thinking that you'd be better off with someone else."

Your stomach drops. "No, Bucky-”

"I mean like someone who doesn't get spooked when you want to do regular relationship stuff, it's not fair on you." He says, brow furrowed.

"Look, forget the wedding, I'll ask one of my friends to come."

"It's not just the wedding though is it?" He sighs.

“I don’t want anybody else.” You state firmly, placing your hand on his chest - you can feel his ever present dog tags through the thin material of his sweater.

"You've been so patient with me, it's more than I deserve."

"This is what you deserve." You say, and kiss him gently on the cheek. "And this." then corner of his mouth. "And this." finally the hollow of his throat.

He lets out a soft groan and grips the nape of your neck, kissing you deeply, opening your mouth with his tongue. He tastes of cherry and vanilla, his lips soft but insistent.

"I want you." He breathes. "I want you."

Without a word, you take his hand and lead him to the bedroom. Bucky was so gentle and hesitant when you first started sleeping together, terrified of hurting you with his strength and self-conscious of his arm. You managed to convince him that you could take - even sometimes desired - a little roughness. He loved to take his time undressing you, kissing and touching your soft flesh as he went. And when you reciprocated, he'd been touch starved for so long that the feeling of your hands and lips on him was almost enough.

Tonight he didn't deviate, pulling off your clothes and kissing you everywhere as you laid on the bed. He hovers over you, still half dressed, and you stroke his hair, fingers entwined in the short strands as his lips travel down your body, making you squirm. Finally he kneels between your legs and tugs at your panties, eyes dark with lust.

"James." You sigh, touching yourself, wetness coating your fingertips.

"You're so beautiful." He says gruffly, eyes focused on you as he removes his jeans. You'd seen him naked a number of times now but you never failed to be impressed by his magnificence, even his cock, now hard and leaking at the tip, is a thing of beauty.

You hold your hand out for him to return to the bed but his hands reach for your waist, indicating for you to turn over; you comply and he moves behind you, lifting your hips and pushing into you in one swift movement. You cry out as he fills and stretches your pussy, digging your fingers into the mattress as you back up against him.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" He growls.

"Yes, please...don't stop." You mewl, as he buries his cock to the hilt.

Bucky’s flesh hand is between your legs, fingering your aching clit, while his metal one still grips your hip. You place your hand over his, interlacing your fingers with his vibranium digits.

The rhythmic clink of Bucky's dog tags and the sound of your soft cries fill the air, he continues to work your clit in tight circles as he moves inside you, leaning down to pepper kisses on your shoulder - it isn't long before you feel the familiar tightness building at your core.

"Oh, Bucky, I'm going to-" you trail off as he drives into you harder, making you come apart and you moan loudly as your orgasm rolls through you in hot waves.

Compared to you, Bucky's almost silent, quietly panting and groaning, his hold on you tightening as you feel him throbbing into you.

Afterwards he spoons you, his bionic arm around your waist like a vice, kissing your hair.

"Look, about the wedding-" He starts.

"We don't have to talk about it now." You yawn. “Let’s leave it until tomorrow. One day at a time.”

“One day at a time.” Bucky repeats, softly.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #recovering bucky

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miabrown007 · 2 years ago

Note

Hehe

❌💞😬✨

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

pregnancy fics really aren't my jam, though I've actually betad more of them, so I guess never say never?

💞 Who's your comfort character?

already answered here, but it's common knowledge that in the best ships you stan both person, so naturally Marinette. she's cute, she's badass, she'll team up with Plagg and cause problems on purpose!

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

definitely what I already have of Rules of the Game haha (I know, I know, it isn't even posted, I digress) it started out as PWP, but then I discovered that I can't write that to save my life and added plot, and now I'm hopping to keep it M -- but even so, it's by far the most explicit thing I've written so far

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

this is a really hard question right now but. I like about my style that I can keep stories short and they are still emotionally impactful (hopefully? lol, they impact me, and when I'm reading them that's all that matters I guess). I just feel like I use words efficiently and that's a really good thing considering my reading and writing speed (also, have you read my jokes? I'm hilarious, and will not be taking constructive criticism this time)

from the fic emoji ask game

#thank you for the ask! <3 #ask game #miaraculous writing #there's like a /hj tone indicator for that very last statement but at this point I feel like I'm just turning my own compliments #backhanded and that is so not what this game is about so. I actually do think Im funny even if not this confidently so at least theres that

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vdlest · 3 years ago

Text

Nice to meet you

Characters:

TFATWS Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:

The restaurant where Bucky always take Yori to eat with him is where you actually work. You've been watching and staring at him for quite some time now, but didn't have the courage to introduce yourself to him. But what happens when Yori asked Bucky to take you out?

Warning:

None

There they are again. You see two familiar faces entering the restaurant you are working at. You've been seeing this guy who is in his late 30s accompanied by an elderly for quite some time now. You don't know if they are father & son, or anything, but one thing's for sure, you like the guy. You like him even if you don't know what his name is, even if you have no idea who he is. His treatment to the elder guy is enough reason to like him.

No one is taking their table so you took the chance to finally have a closer look of the guy you've been liking for quite some time. Whenever they come, you are either busy with another table or assigned in the cashier. But this time, the opportunity is in front of you.

So you took it.

"Hi, ready to order?" you asked them casually, even if your stomach is getting butteflies inside it. Is this his effect to you? You don't know.

The older man stared at you and smiled, "Just call me Yori. I can guess you're calling me "old man" in your thoughts," he joked.

Yori's joke made you chuckle, "Okay, Yori, nice to meet you. I'm Y/N and I'll be your server for today," you said as you get the paper and pen on your pocket to get their orders, but still no luck from the man you've been eyeing, you still don't know what his name is, "What can I get you for your lunch?" you asked them, glancing at the man who's still busy looking at the menu.

"I'll have Fish and Chips, old man's been craving it since last night," Yori said looking at you. Good thing you were able to switch your eyes to Yori, but when he smiled at you, he must've seen you looking at the man beside him. Yori's smile made you somehow nervous.

You tried to act normal and turned to the man beside Yori, hoping that you would finally know his name by the end of this day.

"How 'bout you, Sir? What can..." you weren't able to finish your question for him when his eyes finally met yours. It was only a matter of time before you realized that this man has a gorgeous pair of blue eyes. You cleared your throat, "What can I get you?" you asked him, dismissing the thought of fantasizing about him.

"I'll just have Clam Chowder," he answers you as he handed you the menu, "Thank you."

"Would you care for anything to drink, then?" you grabbed the menu from his hand, "You should..."

"You should ask her out," Yori said to the guy beside him, making your eyes widened in surprise.

His reaction was same as yours, he's almost embarassed to what Yori just said. Your cheeks are burning red in your guess, but you tried to be as professional as possible. One more thing, you don't want the guy to think that you're into him, that'll make things more awkward as it is now.

"Yori," the man glared at Yori before he moved his eyes back to you, "I'm sorry, he's just really like this from time to time."

You are already getting tired of calling him "guy" or "man." You've been wanting to know his name but God knows how?

"It's fine," you replied then you prepare yourself to leave, "If there's anything you need from me, just let me know. Thank you."

"His name is James," Yori said as you turn your back on them, but you pretended that you did not hear it since you're already inches away from them.

Now, you finally know what his name is.

•••

When their order is finally ready, you took a deep breath before heading your way to their table. Things are more awkward now. You wished that you weren't their server so you'll just get to watch and like him from afar. Not like this.

"Here's your order," you tried your best to smile from ear to ear, even though you're feeling embarassed and a bit awkward already. You put down their orders and once you're done you told them to enjoy their meal.

"So what's a pretty lady like you doing here?" Yori asked you.

Oh, great, small talk, you thought.

You badly want to go back inside the kitchen and start serving other customers but you remembered what your manager told you when the customers make a small talk with you — answer them and interact with them, that way they'll have the will to come back.

"I'm just saving up money to start my own business," you answered Yori.

You could see in your peripheral that James is looking at you. As much as you want to know what kind of look he's giving you, you fight that idea.

"I like business-minded people. They are the best in organization and handling things," he complimented. "You got a boyfriend?" he asked you another question.

You shook your head and smile, "No, I don't. I guess that's the downside of being a business-minded, no one dares to date you," you joked.

"I think I'll take that dare."

Your eyes traveled to James who suddenly spoke.

"I'm sorry, you're what?" you asked him.

"You think no one dares to date business-minded woman? I'll tell you, what," he smiles at you, "I like accepting dares."

Is he asking you out?

"Just in case you're puzzled with his words," Yori joined the conversation again, making you look his way again, "He's asking you out."

"Really?" you asked Yori.

Your eyes moved back to James and the way he stares at you makes your heart skip a beat, countless times. Your fingers gripped on the tray you're holding, trying to contain your happiness.

"What time's the end of your shift?" he asked.

You gulped, "I'm out by 6."

"Great, I'll come back at 6 to pick you up, then," he extended his hand towards you, "I'm James Barnes, but call me Bucky."

You reached for his hand, "Nice to meet you, Bucky. I'm Y/N." The touch of his soft hand on yours answers all your untold questions about him.

Ever since you saw him, you kept on asking yourself what it feels like to be his girl, what it feels like to be hugged by him, what if feels like to hold hands with him, and what if feels like to be kissed by his lips. But now, the touch of his hand on yours and the fact that you two have a date later is more than enough.

•••

When he said he's gonna be at your workplace at 6, he meant he's gonna be 30 minutes early. You asked him to sit down on one of the vacant tables, when he did, he handed you the bouquet of flowers he's holding. You didn't want to conclude that it was meant for you, but when he handed it to you, your heart melted like an ice cream under the sun.

As you finished your shift, you and Bucky went on your way. He said he already had everything planned out, so he did not bother to ask you where you want to go. Well, that's how you like it anyway. You want to be surprised.

The two of you ended up in the nearby beach, before you settled down in the sand, you passed by some food stalls and that's where you and Bucky bought food and drinks for your date.

"I hope you like sunsets," he said as both of you sat down on the sand and started munching over the food you guys bought, "I should've asked you abour where you want to go, but..." he seemed a little nervous so you cut him off.

"I like it."

His eyes went to yours and now he's puzzled, "You like what in particular?" he asked.

You smiled, "I like all of these. I like sunsets. I like how you planned this night for us. I like it. I appreciate it." You handed him his drink, "I'm not expert in date ideas as well, so no worries."

He chuckled and that's the only time you noticed how cute he is when he laugh and smile, especially his cheeks reaching for his eyes.

"I haven't dated anyone in decades so that explains my old fashioned ways and ideas," you don't know what he means when he said he haven't dated in decades.

"What are you? A 80 year old man?" you joked.

"Actually a hundred and six."

You burst into laughter but his face remained serious, "You are so funny, Bucky." You sighed as you stare on the sunset in front of you, "You know, some of my classmates bullied me when I was in elementary 'cause they think I'm an old soul or something, so don't worry if someone thinks of you as an old-fashioned or something. It's not really bad."

He frowned, "Why did they bullied you?"

"Because they found out that I'm listening to The Beatles, Paul Anka, Frankie Valli, and not into Britney Spears or something trendy during our time," you explained. You took a deep breath once more, "I guess I just really prefer old and classic songs. I find them amusing and the words that they used in making them feels like they are really talking to you and your soul."

You could still remember back in the day, you asked your dad to bought you a vinyl because you were fascinated by it.

"So what's your favorite song?" Bucky asked you.

"Can't take my eyes off of you, it's really classic," you said before taking a sip from your drink. "That was also my parents' theme song when they got married," sadness took over you when you remembered your late parents, "That was also the song I sang for them during their funeral."

You felt Bucky's eyes on you.

You turn to him and nodded to his unsaid question, "I'm an orphan now. They died because of a car accident. And when they died I used to live with my grandma but she died ad well three years ago, that makes me independent from then on. That makes me alone and living my own life." You tried giving him a smile, "How about you? What are your favorites?" you changed the topic.

But even though you already changed the topic he did not let go of the fact that something changed in your mood when you talked about your parents.

"I know how hard it is to lose both of your parents. I felt them too," he reached for your hand, making you shiver, "But if they'd see you now, I'll bet they're proud of the woman you are now."

You looked down and smile, "Why do you even talk like you already know me?" you asked him. "You and I just met," you reminded him as you look back at him.

"We just met but I've seen you and how hard you work in that restaurant every single time I was there and every time I pass by it," he revealed.

All along you thought he doesn't know you exist, but he does. He's totally aware of your existence and he knows how hard worker you are.

"Don't feel bad for being alone and independent, 'cause you should be proud of yourself. You know how to take care of yourself without depending or relying your happiness to other people. Sometimes living alone isn't that bad, it will let you experience things that will taught you a lot of lessons in life," you felt he squeezed your hand, making your eyes travel to your and his hands holding together.

You learned from him that he's not related to Yori, they are just neighbors and he's just trying to help Yori as the latter is living on his own.

Once darkness consumed the sky, the two of you head back to your apartment, which is only a few blocks away from the place where you work. You asked him if he wants to have a cup of coffee, he said yes but before you guys could enter your apartment, he received a phone call. After he talked someone over the phone, he said he needed to go.

"Is everything alright?" you asked him concernly. You noticed the sudden change of his mood after he took the call.

He nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry I need to go but I promise, I'll call you and text you." Both of you already exchanged numbers so you just got to wait when he will call and text you. But you said to yourself you're not gonna expect anything, "I had a wonderful time with you tonight and God knows I didn't want to end our date like this but I just got to go. It's call of duty."

You don't understand what he mean by call of duty but you have no other choice but to let him go.

"Take care, Bucky," that's all you could tell him.

You could tell in his reaction that he isn't happy with the answer he got from you.

Somehow, you are telling yourself to not expect anything from him. In that way, you won't get your hopes up and you won't end up getting hurt and disappointed. It's better that way.

You were about to close your door when his hand stopped you from doing so.

"Wha--"

Before you could say a word, he walked towards you and closed the space between the two of you as he leaned in to claim your lips.

The sweet taste of his lips makes your knees weak, but his arms rescued you and gently pinned you against the door. It's not long before you kissed him back and enjoy the taste of his lips.

Last night you dreamed of meeting him, of knowing him, and tonight, you'll be sleeping peacefully as you get satisfaction of meeting him, having a date with him, and getting the chance to kiss him. What a progress in a day.

When you heard your neighbor coming out the other door, you pulled away from your kiss.

You and Bucky stared at each other while waiting for your neighbor to evaporate.

Once your neighbor is gone, he kissed your lips one more time. When he pulled away, he smiled at you, "That's the first time I kissed a woman in decades, so if it's that bad, give me the consideration," he joked.

"No," you shook your head, "No one ever kissed me that good before."

His smile grew wider as he gave your cheeks a caress, "I'll see you when I get back."

"Don't promise anything to me, Bucky. Just do it," you said before entering your apartment and closing your door.

Like what you said, you will not expect anything for the coming days or even weeks. You won't do anything about it. You won't get your hopes up and wait for his move, it's up to him whether he'll call you or not. But a little part of you hope that he will.

A little hope wouldn't hurt anyway.

-v.dl

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